


By Our Wills

by Medie



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-09
Updated: 2010-02-09
Packaged: 2017-10-07 03:34:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 49,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medie/pseuds/Medie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>written for genderbendbb</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> written for genderbendbb

It goes without saying that little Janie Kirk is spoiled. Most everyone within three systems of Starbase 11 knows that. The laughing child with the sunny hair and brilliant blue eyes draws the affection of the base's human and alien staff alike. They dote on her and, in turn, she idolizes them, following them about the facility like a puppy.

Much, of course, to her elder brother's aggravation. Janie knows all the ins and outs of the base, learned them from hours of following the crew around, and that means she knows all the best hiding places.

Which, when you're a little girl who hates bedtime, is key. Janie hasn't made bedtime on time in six months. Mom's had to send security looking for her _twice_.

Tonight it's Sam. Janie _loves_ it when it's Sam.

When the grate on the level below her slides open and his head pops out, Janie clamps a hand over her mouth to muffle her giggles. Starfleet officers do not giggle. They most certainly do not giggle while hiding from Klingon pursuit.

With that in mind, she flattens herself to the upper dome and watches her enemy's arrival.

"_Jaaaa-ne,_," Sam groans, sliding out of the Jeffries tube. He wobbles for a minute to keep his balance on the rounded dome, shooting a wary look at the dome's edge beyond the safety netting. When he's steady, he takes a deliberate step backward, hand grabbing tight to the tube's entrance. "Mom is gonna kill us if she catches us up here. You know what she said the _last time_."

Janie groans. She remembers, but that's not gonna stop Sam from reminding her.

"She said she was going to send us back to Earth with Grandma and you know what _that_ means."

Janie knows that too. Missing Daddy's ship. "Mom _always_ says that!" she yells out, defiant. "She doesn't _mean_ it, stupid."

Triumphant, Sam spins around, too late, Janie realizes her mistake.

"Aw, _Sam_, no fair!"

He grins. "Is too. It's totally fair, Jane."

Sitting up, Janie folds her arms. "I'm still not coming in. Mom said I could watch the moons rise before I went to bed." And maybe, just _maybe_, if she looks hard enough, she'll see Daddy's ship slipping into orbit. She knows which is which. She can pick stars from planets and satellites from starships. She's _smart_.

Daddy said so. She's the smartest girl in Starfleet. Or, she's gonna be, just as soon as she's old enough to join. She's going to be the smartest girl in Starfleet, the best captain in Starfleet, and maybe if Sam's nice to her, she'll let him serve on her ship.

So she can lock him in the brig for being a dummy.

Janie grins. She likes that idea. Maybe she'll ask Ensign Cartwright to lock Sam in the base's brig. Accidentally on purpose. It'd be _funny_.

"She didn't say you could watch from up _here_." Sam sighs and pulls himself up to sit next to her. She ignores him, pulling her legs up to her chest and resting her chin on her knees. "You can't stay up here all night, y'know," he says. "Dad'll be here in the morning anyway."

"I wanna _see_," Janie says in a mumble. Sam always gets to stay up and wait for Daddy. He's older. "Mom said -- "

The bracelet on her wrist vibrates and Janie jumps. She looks down at the little comm node on it. The light's flashing. She looks at Sam and scowls. "You _told_."

He grins. "Nah uh, didn't say a thing. Didn't have to. She's _Mom_. Get used to it, Janie, Moms are like Starfleet Intelligence, just scarier."

The comm chimes this time, loudly, to go along with the vibrations. Biting her lip, Janie watches it with hopes it'll go dead. She knows how to make it happen, she broke one when she was three. Picked it apart the same day Mom gave it to her. Daddy laughed but she's not supposed to know he did. Breaking it was _wrong_.

"Better answer," Sam says, grinning all the wider. "Otherwise, she's gonna kill you."

"She's gonna kill me anyway," Janie shrugs. "She said she was gonna ground me until I was fifty." Which is the same thing anyway. She drops her wrist, ignoring the comm as she gets up.

What Mom doesn't know won't get her grounded.

She stops at the grate, looking back at Sam. "You better not tell, Sam," she warns. "Or -- "

"Or what?" he asks.

Janie draws herself up to her full height. All two and a half feet of it. "It's the brig for you, Mister."

As first orders go, she's kind of proud of it. Which is probably why she's in the tube and gone before her brother can say anything back.

Mom is waiting when she opens the grill in her bedroom. Arms folded, still in her uniform, Winona Kirk looks down at Janie with an expression that's half-amusement and half-annoyance.

"Jane T. Kirk, what in heaven's name am I going to do with you?"

With her prettiest smile, Janie shrugs, "Let me stay up?"

-

She doesn't. Janie's bathed and in bed a few minutes later, but she's not there long.

-

Klaxons blaring wake her up. Janie's on her feet, stuffed animal clutched tight, before she knows what it is. She doesn't bother calling out to Mom. It's a red alert. Mom's in Command anyway.

"Sam?"

She walks out into their quarters, looking for her brother, finding him at a console. She joins him, looking at the screen.

"It's the Klingons," Sam reports in a quiet whisper.

Janie's stomach flips and she clutches her bear closer. Spinning away, she runs to the window and looks out. There's no weapons fire, no one running, just the quiet of night. "But -- "

"Dad's up there," Sam explains. "His ship's fighting the Klingons off. It'll be okay, Janie, it's _Dad_."

Janie doesn't answer. She stares mutely up at the sky, watching a brilliant flare of light, then smaller streaks of light racing through the night. Wreckage. Pieces of a ship falling to the surface. It's not the Klingons. She can feel it.

Nothing's ever going to be okay again.

It'll be hours before the search teams find the escape pods and the survivors, but Janie already knows.

Her Daddy's not going to be among them.

-

Jane's six weeks into the Academy before it happens. The instructor is an elderly Andorian. A strategic expert brought in for a guest lecture.

He's halfway through his lecture before the words USS Kelvin crosses his lips. It's no coincidence. He's looking straight at her when he does.

She listens, mute and stoic, as he neatly picks apart everything the Kelvin did wrong. She listens right up until he says her father's name.

Jane walks out of the class three seconds later. It's either that or punch the bastard. If she's going to get tossed out of Starfleet Academy, it won't be because she punched a goddamn guest lecturer.

"If there's one thing I can't stand," a voice says, "it's a fucking armchair quarterback."

"Captain Pike," Jane says, her voice neutral. "Good to see you, sir." She met Christopher Pike for the first time when she was a kid and he was the cadet. She'd sat at the kitchen table, drinking a hot chocolate and listening to her mom talk about the Kelvin. They'd tried to get her to leave, but she wouldn't go.

"I wouldn't worry about An'wek," Pike says. He's leaning against the wall, still in command gold, the perfect image for the perfect recruitment poster. "The man's a blowhard." He thumps one boot against the wall.

"I walked out of his class," Jane says. "He can report me."

"He won't," Pike says. "He was out of line, Jane. He knew who you were -- "

"They all know," Jane says. "Every fucking one of them." She curls her fingers tight into a fist, wishing Gary were here and not offworld on a training mission. As friends go, he's a bit of an ass, but she can't think of anyone better to get fucking plastered with and, right now, that's exactly what she has in mind.

"Yeah, they do," he nods. "It could be worse, though."

She turns her head. "How?"

"Your last name could be Archer," Pike grins. "There's a reason most of his kids avoided Starfleet."

"Yeah, well, I have no intentions of going that route," Jane says. She looks at him. "I belong here."

"I know," he nods. "So do they. That's why they're riding you hard. You know you're good, but you don't know _how_ good. I promise you this, Kirk, the next few years? The easiest part'll be the survival training on Vulcan." His grin is almost scary. "The worst thing in the world you can be here is gifted. Brilliant? God help you, but that's the key. You are that good. You know it, I know it, and every instructor here knows it and they're going to push you until you think you've got nothing left. When that happens? Prove your old man, and me, right, Jane. Give them hell."

She laughs. "I already do that."

"Yeah, but do it from the bridge of a starship. Beat the record. Be the youngest captain in Starfleet history. We both know you can do it."

Jane looks back at the classroom door. She stares at it for a long moment then nods.

"Deal."

-

She wakes up in the Farragut's sickbay. "Easy, Lieutenant," a voice murmurs at the same moment a hand guides her down. "You've lost a lot of blood. You shouldn't be moving around just yet."

Elizabeth.

Jane turns her head. There's a tube running into her arm. IV. Blood. She closes her eyes, head swimming, remembering the planet. "The creature -- "

"They're tracking it," Elizabeth replies. "You need to rest."

"The others -- " Jane presses her lips together, trying to coax them into working properly. "The away team." Dehner's a psychiatry resident. A counselor. _Fuck_. "They're all dead aren't they? The away team is all dead?"

Her fault. "I -- "

"_No_," Elizabeth says, firm and hard. "This is not your fault, Lieutenant. That thing – one second or twenty minutes. It wouldn't matter."

Jane sits up, grabbing the tube and ripping it out of her arm. "I need to get back down there. It's going to come after us." She stands, ignoring Elizabeth's shout for help, swaying unsteadily on her feet. She _remembers_. The creature probing through her thoughts as it fed, the pure _hunger_ that had ripped through her with the discovery of the crew.

"It's coming after us," she says.

Elizabeth and another orderly grab her arms while another goes for a hypo. Jane hears the CMO snapping orders, but she hears something else too.

The blaring klaxon of a red alert and, beneath that, the muted sound of screaming.

They're too late. They're too fucking late.

-

_The revolution is successful. But survival depends on drastic measures. Your continued existence represents a threat to the well-being of society. Your lives mean slow death to the more valued members of the colony. Therefore, I have no alternative but to sentence you to death._

Jane wakes to a muggy Iowa night with Kodos's words echoing in her ears and her heart pounding in her chest. She's alone tonight and glad for it. The sheets are a snarled tangle about her legs, her skin is drenched with sweat, and she's shaking. She doesn't want anyone seeing her this way. Her ghosts are jealous masters. They don't like to share her.

It's all the same to Jane. She doesn't like sharing them either.

Wide awake, she gives into the usual routine. It takes time to free herself from the blankets and slide from the bed, but the bottle of brandy on the dresser waits patiently. She pours herself a glass, bigger than she should, and pads down the stairs to the living room.

The house is empty. Sam offworld with Aurelan and the kids, Carol and David long since moved back to San Francisco. There's no one to disturb, but Jane leaves the lights off anyway. Dawn hours away and she wants to enjoy the shelter of darkness while she can.

She navigates the furniture with relative ease and settles on the window seat, her favorite spot in the entire house. Leaning back, Jane presses one bare foot against the wall and looks out at the night. It's warm and clear, the stars bright, and the Starfleet traffic easily visible.

A ship goes to warp. Jane flinches.

Two decades and she can't look at the stars without seeing his ship in flames. Pieces falling toward the starbase while his killers vanish into the black of space. No signs and no warp trail. Nothing to follow and nothing to fight.

Fucking Klingons.

Somewhere out there on the horizon is the shipyard where they're putting the finishing touches on the new Enterprise. The first of the equally new Constellation class. Pike's ship. The latest in a distinguished, if short, line. She tips the glass to her lips, letting the alcohol burn its way down into her stomach. The warmth spreads its way through her system, but she still hugs her legs close to her chest when she's done.

She wanted the Enterprise once. She wanted all of it. The chair, the command, the exploration and adventure. She wanted to see the galaxy. Do the things her father did. Her mother before their world fell apart and her dreams got sidetracked.

Jane swallows a sigh, leaning her head against the glass. Once.

Now, she doesn't know what she wants. Other than a time machine. It's Kodos and four thousand dead colonists that woke her, but it's the memory of Captain Garrovick and her shipmates that keeps her awake. A half-second. It's all she needs. Just take back that half-second of staring at the creature on Tycho IV and fire. Kill it before it can get to Captain Garrovick and the Farragut.

A half-second to do what the Kobayashi Maru and Starfleet Academy couldn't. Jane raises her glass, saluting the creature, whatever the hell it was and wherever the hell it is. She hopes it's dead, choked on the lives it stole from her shipmates, but doubts it very much. Starfleet's probably still hunting the thing. Just like she should be.

She smirks to herself, downing the rest of her drink. Another failure to add to the list. For Starfleet's golden child, she has quite the collection.

She glances at the chrono and debates going out. She's got the transporter credits and there are a few places in the city, the alien sector especially, open this late. The idea of going out, getting herself good and fucking lost for a while sounds _fantastic_.

Except.

Jane puts the glass down and stretches out her legs. Except she has to be in class tomorrow. Opening of the fall session. A new batch of recruits waiting for her to crush their illusions and shatter a few dreams before tantalizing them with new ones they didn't know they wanted. New ones to be crushed by space and its cruelties.

She's the _teacher_ and how the hell did that happen? She scowls to herself and thumps one bare foot against the wall. "Easy, stupid," she mutters, "you did it to yourself." Wanting off the Farragut and taking the first open assignment brought her square back to the Academy.

The first _official_ open post. Jane's still sure this is the brass's way of punishing her for hopping off the golden path. With a flick of her fingers, she salutes them. "Round one to you, boys."

She falls asleep on the window seat. Her ghosts can take the bed.

-

She doesn't know why she uses the cadet shuttle. She's got enough transporter credits to just beam back, but she still goes to the shipyards. She's not in any hurry to get back to the city and, maybe, she wants to see her again.

The new Enterprise. The ship lies in sections, almost unrecognizable as a ship, but Jane can see it. The gaping framework is filled by her mind's eye, becoming the gleaming lines of the vessel that will become the Federation's flagship.

She's going to be _gorgeous_.

Wistfulness tugs at Jane as she's processed through security.

"Nice to see you, Commander," Christopher Pike says, coming to a stop by her shoulder.

Jane takes back her ident and looks at him. "Checking on her, sir?"

He grins. "Flying the latest batch back, but I thought I'd take a look."

Nodding a farewell at the guard, Jane winks at her, enjoying the way the woman blushes before she moves on. She tucks her ident into her pocket, slipping her hands into the pockets of her jeans. She doesn't meet the captain's eyes, looking everywhere but at him as she asks, "Everything on schedule?"

She can hear the grin in his voice. "No, it's too damn slow."

"Behind schedule?" Jane asks, finally risking a look at him. Pike isn't even looking at her, his eyes on the ship being built behind her. She recognizes that look. She's seen it in the eyes of more than one captain.

"Bang on, actually," he says, still staring at the ship. "Driving me crazy. Like waiting for Christmas morning. Not that I mind the Academy posting, but -- "

Jane nods. "But you miss her."

Pike sighs. "Yes." He shakes his head. "Crazy thing, missing a ship you've never set foot on."

"The Enterprise is the Enterprise," Jane says. "New class or no." As answers go, it's a little too philosophical for her tastes, but, looking up at the ship, it's the truth. There isn't a kid in the Federation that doesn't know the name. There isn't a kid in the Federation that hasn't dreamed of serving on her. Following in the footsteps of giants.

Realizing Pike is staring at her, she looks back. "What?" she asks, feeling her cheeks heat.

"Number One said the exact same thing to me." Pike laughs, shaking his head. "I can't imagine two people more unlikely to agree with each other."

"Well, then," she grins, "I like her already."

The captain laughs harder. She has a feeling that meeting the famed Number One is going to be _interesting_. She's heard the stories about the woman. Pike and Number One. Peanut butter and jelly. Some things just _work_ and they're at the top of that list. "God, I need to get you two on the same ship."

"Something tells me she wouldn't agree, sir."

"Don't be so sure," Pike says. He looks back at the Enterprise. "No matter what they tell you at the Academy, nothing prepares you for it. Commanding a ship like _that_? Not something the Ivy League can give you."

"Starfleet Academy's hardly that," Jane says, uncomfortable with the unexpected revelation. Uncertainty settles into her stomach and she watches him with new eyes. What she knows of Christopher Pike, she knows from one childhood meeting, passing encounters at the Academy and reputation filling in the blanks, but she knows enough. He has an agenda and she finds herself wishing she'd just taken the transporter instead.

She can feel another job offer coming and Starfleet's ready agreement to her transfer takes on a whole new light. They played her.

Jane ducks her head, resisting the urge to say something that'll _definitely_ get her kicked out. "I'm not leaving the Academy," she says, calm and deliberate. "Whatever the offer is, Captain Pike, consider this my barely respectful refusal."

"You haven't even heard it yet, Jane," Pike says, still very amused. "I spent a lot of time thinking this one over. I even practiced my speech three times. You can at least do me a favor and hear it out."

"I'd rather not," Jane says. "I transferred back to the Academy for a reason, sir."

"Yeah," Pike agrees, "you were looking for a place to hide."

It's blunt, hitting her with all the subtlety of a photon torpedo. Jane stumbles, catching herself quickly. "Captain -- "

"I've read the reports, Commander," he says, talking over her. "The Farragut's XO sang your praises after the incident on Tycho IV. So did the official report on the matter. You might be punishing yourself for some imagined failing, but you're the only one. Nothing you did on that mission could have stopped that creature, Jane. Nothing _anyone_ did could have stopped it."

Jane closes her eyes, breathing deep as she hears the screams of her dying crewmates echoed in her ears. The creature had moved through the ship like smoke, billowing through vents, slipping beneath doors, swirling up around officers and leaving them white-skinned corpses on the deck when it passed.

She flexes her fingers, still feeling the weight of the phaser, "If I'd fired sooner -- " she breathes. "I could -- "

"Have not changed the outcome," Pike insists. "Believe me, Commander, I know how you feel. The responsibility, self-doubt, blame. You think like a captain, Jane, and that's admirable, but misguided. You aren't responsible for the casualties on the Farragut, no matter what you've been telling yourself these past few years." He tips his head forward, smiling at her. "Starfleet doesn't hand out commendations, or promotions, to the incompetent."

"Really?" Jane can't stop the sardonic smile. "I thought that was _all_ they did." She picks up the pace, closing the distance between herself and the shuttle in long strides. At least, until Pike angles himself in front of her, holding up a hand to stop her cold.

"I want you on the Enterprise, Jane. You _belong_ on that ship, not teaching."

"I like teaching," Jane says. It's not a complete lie. There are some rewarding moments about it, she wouldn't have come back to the Academy otherwise, but Pike doesn't buy that anymore than Jane truly does.

"You're a competent instructor, Jane. I know for a fact the Academy's pleased with your work, but we both know the truth. You _shine_ in space, just like your father did." He hesitates briefly. "I didn't ask about it when I interviewed your mother for my thesis, but I know you saw the attack on Starbase 11 and the ship's destruction."

Jane lifts her head, eyes narrowing with suspicion as she waits for him to continue, "And?"

Pike breathes deep. "Your father saved thousands of lives that day, including those of his own children -- "

"I know," Jane says coldly, "I was _there_." And still dreams of the ship's wreckage burning in the atmosphere, perversely beautiful in its death throes.

"And you've had a chip your shoulder ever since," Pike says. "The universe killed your father -- "

"A _Klingon bird of prey_ killed my father," Jane snaps, fist balling up. "And the Federation did nothing about it." Oh, there'd been investigations. Starfleet had taken statements, held hearings, run scans, and followed a thousand procedures that had added up to a massive exercise in futility. Ambassadors and Presidents had made noises.

Jane is still waiting for it to come to something. She knows she'll be waiting for a while.

"The Klingons swear it wasn't them," Pike answers. "Their ambassador insists the ship isn't theirs."

"Right," Jane agrees, "and the Klingons _never_ lie."

He chuckles. "You're getting me off track, Commander."

"That was the goal, Captain," Jane says, nonplussed. "I'm not interested in your offer."

"The hell you aren't, Kirk," he says, grinning again. She likes his grin which is a thought she shouldn't be having. Christopher Pike is a damn attractive man, but fucking a captain? Particularly a captain trying to coax her into his crew is a whole other level of special Jane's not willing to touch. Still... "There's more of your father in you than you realize. Up until Tycho IV, you were on track to be the youngest captain in Starfleet history" Just like he'd dared her, but neither one of them says so. "There are a hell of a lot of people still hoping you're going to do it. You stay here, Commander, you'll have a decent career. You'll train some talented people, maybe create a few legends, but you'll never be satisfied. You'll never be what you were born to be."

He doesn't say it, but he doesn't need to. Jane's eyes stray to the Enterprise behind him.

"You don't have to answer me now, Commander," Pike says. "As you can see, we've got a few years before I even have a ship for you to serve on, but the next time I ask? I'm going to be expecting a yes."

Tearing her eyes away from the Enterprise, Jane looks at him, ready to refuse, but Pike's already walking away.

She exhales. "Bastard."

She pivots on one heel, closing the distance between herself and the shuttle, ducking inside before the Enterprise's siren song can lull her into chasing after the captain.

There's no chance in hell she's ever going to say yes.

-

Stepping into the shuttle, Jane steps into chaos. The Starfleet equivalent at the very least. Around her, most of the cadets are milling about, finding seats and buckling themselves in.

Most.

One, however, is putting up a fight.

Stopping just inside the door, Jane looks at the man. She starts to grin, watching the scruffy, wild-eyed man argue with a pint-sized security officer. The contrast is amusing. Particularly since she recognizes the officer. Their quarrelsome cadet doesn't stand a chance.

"You need a doctor!" Louisa insists.

"I told you people, I don't need a doctor, dammit, I _am_ a doctor!" he snaps back. He's a little old to be a cadet, but Jane's not complaining. The view from where she stands is a pretty good one. Not to mention she's always been fond of accents and their new cadet's Georgia drawl is hitting her like bourbon, spreading a familiar warmth through her.

"God bless the south," Jane breathes, watching the exchange as Louisa manhandles him back toward a seat.

"Sir, for your own safety, sit down, or else I'll _make_ you sit down!" she snaps, giving him the same look Jane remembers so well. The last time she saw Lou use it, a Tellarite ambassadorial aide had his arm broken in three places.

Reflex.

"...fine." the cadet agrees, slumping into one of the slots. The other cadets look away from him, some smiling, some not. Watching him, Jane can imagine what they're thinking.

They're full of shit.

"Thank you," Louisa says, mollified. She turns around to walk away and finds Jane grinning at her. "Don't _you_ start on me, C-"

"I wouldn't think of it," Jane says, cutting her off before she can finish the rank. No one knows her, she'd like to keep it that way. At least for now. Let them snap their salutes and stumble over sir/ma'am later. She's not in the mood. "You've had a hard enough day." With a wink, she leans closer. "How about I buy you a drink later and help you forget all about it?"

"Kirk, do you _ever_ quit?" Louisa asks, laughing in spite of herself.

Jane's grin dims, remembering Pike's accusations. "On occasion. This isn't one of them." Bumping hips with the other woman, she brushes past to take the last seat. The one right next to her Georgia peach.

"I may throw up on you," he warns, dour as he fumbles with the straps.

Jane can't help herself, reaching over, she fastens it for him. "I think these things are pretty safe," she says, patting his chest when she's done, rewarded with the feel of definition beneath her palm.

_Nice_. Apparently they raise them right in Georgia.

She resists the urge for another pat. Every cadet on the shuttle is watching them and while Jane doesn't mind an audience if the situation calls for it, she's pretty sure the commandant would kill her for this one.

Instructors do not grope cadets. Even the _really_ pretty ones.

"Don't pander to me kid," he snaps, delighting her with his annoyance. "One tiny crack in the hull and our blood boils in thirteen second. Solar flare might crop up and cook us in our seats. And wait until you're flat on your back with a case of Andorian shingles. See if you're so relaxed when those pretty eyes of yours are bleeding. Space is disease and danger wrapped in darkness and silence."

She doesn't laugh at him, she doesn't, but God she wants to. He's _adorable_.

"In my experience, planets aren't much safer," she says. She knows better than anyone just how dangerous life on a planet can be. Since he's not interested in hearing her life story, and she'd take on the whole fucking Klingon Empire before telling it, Jane just shrugs and nudges his shoulder with her arm. "I hate to break it to you, but Starfleet operates in space."

"Yeah, well, I got nowhere else to go, ex-wife took the whole damn planet in the divorce, all I got left is my bones."

Producing a flask, he takes a swig and offers it to her. Jane salutes him with it before helping herself. "...Jane Kirk." She caps the flask and slips it into his pocket, patting it as she does. "Don't want Lou to see," she says. "She'd space us both."

"McCoy. Leonard McCoy." He pauses, then grins, "I'm pretty sure you could take her."

Jane doesn't try and stop her laughter. "Oh, trust me, Bones...it'd be an interesting fight, but Lou would kick my ass in a hot second." She winks. "Nothing better than getting pinned by a beautiful woman. You ought to try it sometime."

He grimaces. "You're going to be a handful, aren't you?"

She sees his grimace and raises him a playful leer. "And you're going to love every second of it."

"Somehow, I doubt that," Bones replies.

She pats his hand. "Oh, trust me." With a wink, Jane can't help herself, "And don't worry, Bones. You get scared, you can hold my hand, I won't mind."

He starts to nod, then boggles. "Now wait just a damn minute, if you think that -- "

Jane misses the rest. She's laughing too hard to hear it.

-

She loses track of Bones once they hit the Academy. The first few weeks are a blur of orientation and acclimation for cadet and instructor alike. Jane doesn't really try to look for him and she doesn't worry either. While she's trying to keep her head above water in the midst of new cadets and new courses, she knows, Bones is trying to do the same with Starfleet Medical pulling him one way and his general courses pulling him the other.

The best they can manage is a brief lunch here and there. Most of which is spent in silence, each one plowing through a mountain of course work.

"Gets easier, right?" he asks one day around a mouthful of sandwich.

Jane grins. "Nope."

That gets her an aggravated scowl. "You're supposed to be reassuring me here, Jane."

She nudges his leg with her boot, sliding playfully against him. "Well, if it's _reassurance_ you want, Bones, all you had to do was ask." It's not the first time she's hit on him, not even the first time today, and certainly not her most obvious attempt. Instructors aren't supposed to grope cadets, but what the commandant doesn't know, might make his head explode.

"Forget it, Jane," Bones says gruffly. His ears are pink, but he keeps eye contact. "It's a damn miracle I've got enough energy to stand, forget _that_."

Jane chuckles. "Well, for what I've got in mind, standing's not really required." She leans back in her chair, watching the cadets bustling around them. No one pays much attention to them, though she does catch a few familiar faces glancing her way. Students from one of her first year programs. They nod, wave, but no one approaches.

Just as well. She still hasn't gotten around to clarifying that particular little misunderstanding with Bones. The last thing she wants to do is do it _here_. Or at all, really, but that's an issue she's not too eager to acknowledge. Lying to him isn't fair, and she feels guilty, but she likes her little escape.

Leonard McCoy's about the only person on campus that doesn't give a tinker's damn about Lieutenant Commander Jane Kirk or her derailed career track. She hadn't realized how much she missed being just Jane until now.

She coughs, swallowing against the lump in her throat, and picks up her own coffee. Bones is watching her now, a hint of concern in his eyes, and she grins. "Sorry. My imagination got the better of me."

He rolls his eyes. "Lech."

Jane grins. "Only for you, Bones, only for you."

-

By rights, she's entitled to 'Fleet housing off campus. The officers' quarters are a pretty comfortable set up. Almost non-existent rent and square footage that would make the civilian population green (or, in some cases, _greener_) with envy.

Naturally, being Jane T. Kirk, she hates them and opts for on campus dorms. The cadets shouldn't be the only ones suffering.

She just wishes she were the only one doing it. Or, at least, she wishes they'd assign her better neighbors.

He might be quiet, but she's reasonably convinced Commander Spock hates her guts. In truth, she's not so fond of his guts either.

"Commander Kirk."

Locking her door behind her, Jane takes a moment to square her shoulders against the oncoming confrontation. When she finds out who put them on similar schedules, _someone's_ sonic shower settings are getting reprogrammed to 'fucked up'.

"Commander Spock," she says as she turns around. "Nice day, isn't it?"

He raises one eyebrow. "As Earth's weather patterns are monitored and manipulated by a regulatory body, I fail to see anything remarkable as to a clear sky and absence of precipitation."

He's not the first Vulcan that Jane has met. She actually did a rotation on the Intrepid during the Academy. Four hundred Vulcans against one single, solitary human.

It was _fantastic_.

She _liked_ those Vulcans; she's reasonably sure those Vulcans liked her. Captain T'Pris had made noises about having her back. All in all, she thinks she can safely say she's not hiding any super secret prejudices against the entire Vulcan race.

Just this one it seems. This one she wants to pop in the nose. Superior strength be damned.

"Small talk, Mr. Spock," she says through gritted teeth, "I was making small talk."

"Ah," he nods. "An attempt by humans to divert attention away from a particular subject of tension." He tips his head, clasping his hands loosely behind his back, and good God, he's settling in for a fight.

A planetary emergency would be good about now. She'd even settle for a small incident in, say, Australia. Nothing too terrible, just the entire continent disappearing. Something important enough to require all hands to stations and let her ride to the rescue. She likes Australia. She could get some leave time in after saving it.

No tan lines, no worries, and no Vulcans giving her the evil eyebrow. Jane crosses her fingers and hopes for the best.

Her communicator stays stubbornly silent as she looks at Spock. "I suppose, if you wanted, you could characterize it that way."

"I was unaware that such a subject existed in this situation," he observes.

Jane smiles. A grimace really. "We are that subject, Commander. As I'm sure you've observed, we don't get along." Which is the understatement of the century, but she's gotten used to making a few of those. "Chalk and cheese as Grandma Kirk used to say."

"I am unfamiliar with that statement," Spock comments. He straightens, his hands behind him, and Jane grits her teeth. "Perhaps you will explain it's origins to me at a later opportunity."

"Perhaps," she agrees. She will explain it to him at a later opportunity. Five minutes after the heat death of the universe should do nicely. Pivoting, she turns to walk toward the lift.

"Commander -- "

Spock's voice stops her short and Jane closes her eyes. "Yes, Mr. Spock?" When he doesn't answer, she turns around to face him. "If you don't mind, Commander, I'm going to be late for class." That, she thinks, should get him moving. Spock is nothing of annoyingly punctual.

"I will not keep you," he assures. "It has not escaped me, however, that you are uncomfortable in my presence. Logic dictates that I address this."

Jane laughs. "Well, Mr. Spock, you can tell logic to kiss my ass."

Looking perplexed, Spock takes a step toward her. "I do not understand your response, Commander."

"The hell you don't," Jane says. "You understand a lot more than you let on, Mr. Spock."

He raises a brow. "Explain."

The slightly flat inflection on the word says she's scored points. Good. About time she pissed him off. Maybe now they can get somewhere. She doubts it, but maybe. "Mr. Spock, you might have grown up on Vulcan, but there's still a little human lurking in there. Enough to give you a pretty good idea how human beings think. In case, however, I've completely misread the situation - which, again, I highly doubt - I'm not interested in what logic dictates. Diplomacy is for receptions and peace talks, not interpersonal relationships. I'll take some good honest hostility over 'diplomacy' any day of the damn week. You're still pissed at me about that damn test."

"I am not," he says. "However -- "

"However, nothing," Jane interrupts. "You think I cheated, I think the test is pointless." And it is. If Kobayashi Maru meant a damn thing -- she shakes off the thought. She won't bring Garrovick and the others into _this_.

She turns toward the lift again, jabbing the console in irritation. "Save logic for the chess board, Commander. I'm not interested in what it has to say." She forces a smile. "Now _Spock_ on the other hand -- maybe."

The doors slide open with a soft whoosh of air and she steps inside without looking back.

-

"Jane?" A padd in one hand, a cup of coffee in the other, Bones gives her a befuddled look. "What the hell are you doing here?"

She grins, plucking the padd out of his hand. She's interrupted a study session by the looks of things. "Visiting." Casting a glance at the padd's contents, she tosses it aside. "_Studying_? Really, Bones. Can't you think of better things to be doing?"

"Let me guess," Bones says, just a hint of exasperation in his voice, "You've got a suggestion of at least _one_?"

Fully aware of his eyes on her, Jane throws herself down on his bed. She's still fidgety from the run-in with Spock. Restless energy working its way through her system, eager for somewhere to go, electricity looking for ground, and she tosses her best 'come hither' look Bones's way. "Please," she says with a pout, "I can think of a lot more than one. That one's just my favorite."

He grunts. Which she in no way considers hot. Except in that she's heard that sound a thousand times in almost as many fantasies and she'd _really_ love it if he'd just get off his damn high horse and take her up on it. "Highest IQ in three states and all you think about is sex."

She flops onto her back, kicking one leg languidly as she stares at the ceiling. "Better than plotting murder."

That gets a noise that might be sympathy. With Bones, it's never a good idea to look too closely. "Carol giving you the run around again about David?"

Jane shakes her head. "Not lately." Of all the things she hasn't told him (like, oh, the part where she isn't actually a _cadet_) Jane's still not sure how Carol Marcus, their break up, and their custody issues got past her internal defenses. That's normally a subject not even a Klingon mind sifter could tease out and yet Bones knows most of it. "Next weekend off, we're going camping actually." She looks over. "You can come along." She tries for a little grin. "I may cook and I'm sure there will be some third degree burns in the offing."

Bones snorts. "How Starfleet expects to teach you survival training, I'll never know. If it don't come out of a synthesizer -- "

Jane shrugs. "I'm a child of the twenty-third century, Bones. Why fight it?" In truth, she can rough it with the best of them, but the less she thinks about her survival training on Vulcan the better. The sum total of said training, she's sure, can teach a cadet a hell of a lot more about facing certain death than Kobayashi Maru ever will. Sehlats, Le-Maytas and lightning storms made of sand. Vulcan in the summer is such _fun_.

"Cause last time I checked, they don't include replicators as standard away gear." Bones drops down onto the bed next to her, shoving her legs aside to make room. "Unless you wanna starve to death -- "

"Nah," Jane says, rolling over to face him. "I'll have my tricorder. It's word is law."

He rolls his eyes. "At least you'll be a pretty corpse."

"I'm not going to die, Bones," Jane says, fingers hooking into his belt to pull her closer against him. It's familiar territory now. She's fallen asleep beside Bones more times than she can count, woken up in the tangle of his embrace just as many. They're practically married. Obvious lack of sex the proving point on that front. "Not when I have you to put me back together."

"Yeah, well, who said I'm always gonna be?" he asks, trying to squirm away. It doesn't do anything but push her hands deeper, inching beneath his boxers. His skin is hot against the backs of her fingers and Jane lets her hand wander. It's a simple step from there to put hands in new, _interesting_ places. "A man has his career to think about."

Jane tucks her chin, pouting at him through her lashes. "Aw, Bones, you thinking about leaving me?" The thought is enough to chill her to the core, but she doesn't let on. She presses herself closer, pushing his lower body into contact with hers. "And give up all this?"

McCoy rewards her with another grunt, but then he grabs her wrist and gives her a look. "You're not going to put me off, Jane."

"Oh please," Jane says dismissively, pouncing on him. "That is not trying to put you off." She hooks one leg over his, working a hand around to the right spot. "_This_ is trying to put you off." He goes hard under her experienced fingers. "How am I doing, Doc?" she asks, her question whispered between kisses along his jaw.

Bones tries to answer, but she twists, a quick motion of her wrist that brings him off the bed with a hoarse shout.

"I'll take that as an affirmative," Jane decides. "You know, Bones, we _really_ should have done this sooner." She pulls her hand from his pants, ignoring his protests as she straddles him. "I don't know why you were so dead set against it."

"At the moment," he says thickly, "I'm not so sure myself."

Pulling her shirt over her head, Jane grins down at him. "Probably some Southern gentleman hang up of yours."

"_Me_?" Bones protests. "How the hell did it get to be my fault?"

Jane leans forward, giving him an eyeful of cleavage. "Since when have I _ever_ been shy about sex?"

He shakes his head, hands coming up to cup her breasts anyway. Jane lets him, his thumbs working slow circles over her nipples, teasing them to attention and it's no surprise, really, that Bones? Damn good at this. "Dammit, Jane, this is not what I wanted to do tonight," he says, his mouth joining his hands on her breast.

Biting her lip, she squirms on him, fingers tugging ineffectually at his uniform. Bones takes his time with her. Jane's fidgeting, eager to get on with it, wanting him inside her, wanting to be _moving_, but Bones? Bones just won't damn well move.

Not until she rears back, out of reach, and grins at the frustrated look he gives her. "Nope," she says, briskly, as if her entire body isn't _screaming_ for him. "You wanted to be a good boy and study the subjects you already know inside and out."

"Well," Bones says, dry as Vulcan's Forge, "generally, when a man's trying to pass muster in Starfleet Medical, he finds some studying is involved."

"Bullshit," Jane tugs his shirt over his head, throwing it aside. Nothing she hasn't seen before. She's pretty much made it her mission to see as much of Leonard McCoy as humanly possible and has pretty much managed it too, but _this_. Well, now, this is a whole other kettle of fish. "You've got this stuff cold." She tips her head, taking in the sight of him, bare-chested and annoyed with an expression that says he doesn't know whether to kill her or fuck her through the floor.

She knows what one she'd choose.

"But, hey," she grins, "if you wanna study, I volunteer to quiz you on Anatomy." She rocks forward, pinning him to the bed. "What part of my body is the best one to make me scream?"

She kisses him, her tongue happily exploring every square micron of his mouth. His hands slide down her back, pushing her against him, and _hello_.

When Jane pulls back, sitting up again, they're both fighting for breath and Bones is glaring.

"You plan on spending the whole damn night _talking_?"

She laughs, tracing lazy circles on his chest with her fingernails. "It's a whole new side of me, Bones. Enjoy it." In truth, she doesn't want to rush this. As much as she wants him inside her right the hell _now_, she doesn't want this to be over either. She doesn't want to give him the chance to think twice. Not if it means he might change his mind about _this_.

"You planning on doing something, Jane, or you just wanna admire the view?" he grumbles, squirming beneath her touch.

Delight fills Jane, distracting her from her melancholy thoughts. "Bones -- are you _ticklish_?"

He narrows his gaze. It would be a lot more intimidating if he weren't half naked and harder than neutronium. "You even think about it, Kirk, and I'm warning you, I'll -- "

Laughing, Jane leans down to kiss him soundly. "You'll what, Bones? Spank me?" She nips at his lip. "I'll have you know, under the right circumstances, I'd probably enjoy that."

"I know," he says, annoyed. "That's why I haven't done it. Lord knows, a good spanking's exactly what you need."

She wiggles. "Anytime you want, Bones. You know I'm always up for it."

"See?" he says. "That's what I mean."

Thoroughly amused by his aggravation, Jane kisses him again. "Bones, do you have any idea how adorable you are?"

"Jane," he says, still aggravated, "the last thing a man wants to hear when he's -- " he gestures at their bodies, "-- is that he's _adorable_. It's just not something that you say."

"It's something _I_ would say," Jane insists. "You are." She drops a kiss on the tip of his nose. "For the record, I think adorable is hot."

He grins. "Oh yeah? You think so? Well, I'll show you adorable."

She shrieks with laughter when, to her surprise, he suddenly reverses their positions. 'Trapped' beneath him, Jane grins up in pure glee. "Why Leonard McCoy, I didn't know you had it in you."

He slides his hands along her arms, pushing them back into the bed. "I'm just full of surprises. You be a good girl, and maybe I'll show you a few more."

"Promises, promises, Doctor," Jane says, rocking up into him. "I'm still waiting."

"Dammit, girl, hasn't anyone ever -- " Bones stops. "Course not. How could anybody chase after you good and proper. You don't give them the chance."

She presses her lips together, looking away. "Do not."

"Oh, you don't, huh?" he asks. He leans down, his lips brushing her temple as he speaks. "Try it on somebody who hasn't spent the last year watching you in action. Love 'em, leave 'em, and if they won't go, push them out the door at warp speed." He takes hold of her chin, turning her face toward him. "What if I said I wasn't going anywhere?"

Jane swallows hard. "I'd tell you to shut the fuck up."

"Well, I'm not," he says. "And I don't care what you have to say about it."

She pulls his mouth to hers, kissing him fiercely before pressing her forehead against his. "Don't be so sure, Bones. I'm not."

-

Jane knows precisely the moment McCoy figures it out. Granted, this is because it's Bones and a meteor strike would be more subtle. Almost to the second that he does realize, Bones storms into her class room, all fire and fury, and, goddamn, it's the hottest thing she's ever seen.

"Now, just one damn minute," he's saying as he comes charging into the room, "you mean to tell me that you're an _instructor_?"

Putting down her stylus, Jane leans against the podium and waits placidly for him to figure it out. She knows she should interrupt or cut him off at the pass or _something_ other than watch him dig himself in deeper, but this is to much _fun_.

If only for the fit the Commandant will throw when he hears about it. She hasn't aggravated his ulcer in a while. He probably misses the attention.

Doesn't take long. Never let it be said Leonard H. McCoy isn't a bright boy when he puts his mind to it. Someone coughs, one of her cadets, and Jane shoots a look their way. Sharp and warning. It isn't that this isn't Bones's own fault, it is, but the only person that's going to be enjoying it is her.

When he does get it, McCoy coughs, sputters something she can't make sense of, and looks up at the roomful of students. It's a _very_ large lecture hall. "I, uh, am interrupting."

"Just a little, but since they were all about to get their latest examination results back," Jane grins just a little viciously, "I'm pretty sure they don't mind so much. All right, boys, girls, and to be-determined-at-a-time-of-your-own-choosings, you just sit there and sweat a little while Mommy and Daddy go talk."

Hooking an arm through McCoy's, she half-drags, half-marches him out of the room.

"This is all your fault!" he snaps, yanking free just as soon as the door slides shut. "Where in hell do you get off lying to me?"

Jane folds her arms and tries not to laugh. With the effort she puts into it, she's sure she should get a commendation. "Funny, Bones, I don't remember lying to you."

"You let me think you were a cadet!" he snaps back. "Not an _officer_."

Technically, Bones is right. She _did_ let him think that she was a cadet. More fun that way. Also easier. A _lot_ easier, but she's not in the mood to get into the whys and hows of her less than triumphant return from the Farragut.

She thinks of Garrovick's face, pale and bloodless against the deck, and flinches. Hiding it, she looks into the very alive, very angry face of Bones instead. No ghosts here. No siree. "It was easier this way, Bones, and it isn't like I was teaching any of your courses," She crooks a smile. "If I were, you'd be an easy A for sure."

He flushes. "Damn it, Jane, don't start with me now."

Jane leans against the wall, scuffing the foot of one boot against the floor. "Why?" She can't resist yanking his chain and leers. "Wanna have angry sex in the teachers' lounge?" Not that the Academy _has_ one, but she can improvise in a pinch. Especially when motivated by that little twitch over Bones' eye.

Bones makes a strangled noise of frustration. "You mind giving me one second, Jane? I just found out I'm screwing my way through the Academy. I'm enjoying a good mad here."

"Now, wait just a damn minute here," Jane says, holding up a hand, "You are not the slut in this -- " she pauses, hesitant to call it a _relationship_. That brings connotations she's pretty sure neither one of them is in the mood to consider. Not after his divorce and her break up.

Jane shuts that thought down. She is _not_ going to start mooning over Carol. That way lies obsessing about her own inadequacies and, dammit, Bones is supposed to be the maudlin one around here. Their roles are supposed to be clear. She's the devil-may-care slut and he's, well, he's _Bones_.

"Look, it's not an issue, Bones. It never was." She sighs, straightening up. "I mean it, _Leonard_. As far as most people around here go, I'm nothing more than a washed up prodigy who's going to spend the next twenty years languishing around Starfleet Academy, watching the best and brightest fuck up what I was supposed to reinvent."

It's more than she wants to say on the subject, but she's not going to let Bones follow up on it either. Not with a couple hundred kids sitting on the other side of the door, probably waiting with baited breath to hear what they're saying. She tries to remember if there are any telepaths in the class, but nothing doing. Too many faces and not enough brainspace.

"Hell, Jane, you know that's not what I meant," Bones says, starting to speak.

"No, and it's not what I meant either," she says. "I'm sorry, I probably should have said something, but I honestly wasn't expecting -- " she waves a hand. "I was just catching a fast ride back to San Francisco." She shrugs and grins at him, bright and cheerful. See? No problems here. "The cadet transport was it and, usually, nobody asks any questions." Upside of skyrocketing up a few ranks.

Bones's scowl has less force behind it as he grumbles, "Well, I damn well should have. Knew you were too cocky to be a first timer."

Jane's already grinning even before he realizes what he's said and holds up his hands. "Oh no you don't," he announces emphatically. "Don't even think about making that joke, Jane."

"Oh, come on, Bones," she says, stepping closer. "You can hardly blame a girl."

"The hell I can't," he glares. "You're trying to change the subject with a sex joke."

"Mm, no, I'm trying to change the subject with sex," Jane leers. "Feel like a nooner?"

Bones grabs her hand before it can touch his shirt. Jane laughs. He's getting faster. It wasn't so long ago she'd've had a hand down his pants before he could even blink. She needs to work on that. "Goddamn it, woman, is sex the only thing you think about?"

"No, but it is one of the more entertaining things I think about," she says. Which is true. The rest of the time it's work, David, Carol, Mom, Captain Garrovick -- two hundred dead friends and shipmates and a half-second hesitation that never should have happened.

She rubs her eyes. Fuck.

"Jane?" Bones's voice lowers, concern creeping into it, and she knows she's given herself away. "What is it?"

Finding her smile, Jane shakes it off. "Nothing. I'm tired. It's just been a long day." She looks around, ensuring the hallway is empty, then grabs Bones with her free hand. "I should get back." The kiss is a light, affectionate thing. As much apology as affection. "Go dissect something. We can have dinner downtown later. Great little Andorian place I wanna try." God bless the Andorians and their booze.

He lets her go, but mostly because she doesn't give him a chance. She can still see the concern in his eyes. As she's learning, Leonard McCoy with something stuck in his craw is hell to deal with.

"I'm _fine_, Bones," she assures.

She is, of course, lying, but she hasn't told the truth in years.

-

Jane was thirteen when she stopped giving a damn. Well, about most things. Before that, all she had was Mom, her books, and Sam. Most of the time it was just her books and Sam, holed up in the home of whatever relative was watching them that week. At least until her mother's postings were planetside. Then she and Sam were free to do as they pleased.

Until Frank came along. Jane hated him. He hated her. It's the one thing they ever agreed on. Trashing his car was the first of her many (to listen to Frank anyway) sins. Looking and acting like her father were chief among them. The really unpardonable ones. Jane knows Mom let her get away with murder because of it. That looking at her daughter was, to Winona, to look on the face of her dead husband.

Somewhere down deep, Jane almost pities her stepfather. No one should have to be second best.

Pity only goes so far and when Frank made life hell, Jane was only too happy to return the favor.

She's pretty sure that's how she came to spend her summer with her uncle's family on Tarsus IV, playing babysitter for the Riley family's three year old. God knows, the summer before that, she'd spent driving her stepfather insane.

In young Jane's opinion, it was a short trip, but whatever. The chance to get offworld, to be the one leaving everyone else behind for a change, had seemed like Christmas come early.

Right up until Kodos started killing people. Hell of a way to grow up, running through a colony, stealing rations, and hiding a three year old from soldiers and a governor only too happy to execute his little ass.

Jane shakes off the thoughts, walking out into the California sun. It's weak today, the chill off the harbor pushing through her uniform. She tips her head back, looking at the sky. Shuttles zip back and forth, weaving a ballet of flight over her head, and she watches them for a few minutes.

She knows the Starfleet diagnosis for it. Or, at least, what the counselors like to call it. Post-traumatic stress is one term, but they've tried a half dozen more. She's pretty sure they're using her as a case study. Try out a few therapy techniques and the first one to make the officer cry wins. Whoever gets her crappy childhood out of her gets free transporter credits for a month.

They're all losing.

"Hey, Lieutenant Commander Kirk!"

A voice, friendly and happy, breaks her out of her reverie. Jane looks over, surprised to see one of the cadets waving at her. Orion. Pretty. She fumbles mentally, trying to summon up a name. She's not in any of Jane's classes, but that doesn't matter. She's the youngest instructor at the Academy, sometimes that means she's more cadet than teacher.

"We're heading downtown," the cadet - _Gaila_, that's it - says. She tips her head, red curls spilling over her shoulder, and even fully-clothed, she's an invitation to about fifty different kinds of sin. "Wanna come?"

Jane's grin is habitual, but she'd be a liar to say she wasn't tempted. "Don't need to go downtown for that."

Gaila's grin is genuine and, like most of her smiles, more than a little wicked. "That's not what I meant."

"Funny," Jane says, "It's what I heard." She hooks an arm through Gaila's and glances back. She's not surprised to find Spock standing in the doorway, a look of disapproval on his face. The Vulcan has impeccable timing. He always seems to find her right when she's about to fuck something up. She thinks it's probably his ears. Those babies have got to be hiding one hell of a sensor array.

Or maybe it's just the stick he's got jammed up his ass. Either way, she can't resist a jaunty grin and a wave of her fingers. Let him think what he wants. For once, she actually plans on behaving. Right now, all she plans on doing is going out, getting very, very drunk, and, just as soon as the ghosts stop whispering in her ears, sleeping for a week.

It's not exactly a Starfleet-approved therapeutic technique, but Jane doesn't care. It still sounds pretty damn fantastic to her.

-

There was a time when leave meant a trip to a pleasure planet. Now the only thing Jane wants is to get home and see her son. Except --

"Are you sure, Bones?" Jane asks, shouldering her bag. "It's _Iowa_." Her eyes dance with amusement as she watches him fighting to close his bag. She's not sure if he has anything left in his room except, possibly, the sheets. "Not a whole lot to do for a cadet sewing some wild oats."

"Not interested in sewing anything," Bones says curtly, finally yanking the zipper closed. "That's your neck of the woods, Jane. Not mine."

"Not one little bit?" Jane asks, holding up two fingers to demonstrate. "Not at all?"

"Nope," Bones says. "You know what sewing oats gets you?"

Jane doesn't try to hide her laughter. "Oh, I've got a good idea," she says. "But you're going to tell me anyway." She's heard the rant about his ex-wife more than once. There are two sides to every story, she knows that, but she's not interested in Jocelyn's. It's unfair, but she's only too happy to hate the woman, even if she's irrationally grateful all the same.

She owes her. She owes Jocelyn _and_ her barracuda lawyer more than she can ever say. Jocelyn got the planet. Jane got Bones. All things considered, Jane figures she's making out like a bandit.

"Am not," Bones says. "I'm just saying, we know what comes of sewing oats. Already been kicked off the planet. Got nowhere left for the next ex-Mrs. McCoy to send me. Spending a few weeks in Iowa sounds a hell of a lot better than getting thrown out of the galaxy." He looks at her. "So, we doing this on your transporter credits or mine?"

"Neither," Jane winks. "I've got a friend in the station."

"Of course you do," he says. "There anywhere you don't have a friend?"

Jane shrugs. "Q'o'nos."

"They don't count," Bones says, his look knowing.

Jane turns her head, refusing to get drawn into that particular discussion again. "So, uh, I was thinking," she says, shifting topics. This isn't exactly how she wanted to broach this conversation, but she'll take it over a debate about the Klingons any day. "David's going to be spending a few days with me at the house." She risk looking sideways at him. "Think the ex might see clear to letting Joanna join in the fun?"

"Not a chance in hell," he says, scowling. "She'd never agree to it. I even think of asking -- "

"You're not going to ask," Jane pats his cheek. "I am."

"Oh, yeah, _that'll_ go over well," he says. "You showing up on her doorstep. The next time I see Joanna, I'll be pushing a hundred and that's if I'm _lucky_."

"Oh ye of little faith," Jane says. "I don't believe in no-wins, remember? If I can beat the Kobayashi Maru convincing your ex-wife something should be a piece of cake."

"You _cheated_," Bones points out, but she can see the hope in his eyes. She knows the feeling. The break up with Carol was bad, but when it comes to David, they've tried to keep it civil.

Tried. Neither one of them can be called an angel.

"I didn't cheat," Jane says, patting his cheek. "I got creative. Commendation for original thinking and everything. Ask Captain Pike." She stops them in the hallway, all traces of humor gone from her face. "Let me do this, Bones. I -- I know what it feels like. Being out there when your child's back here. Any chance you can get, you take, and if I have to drag Carol down there to explain it? I'm going to."

She kisses his cheek. "C'mon," she says, breaking free. "We're gonna miss our beam out."

"And that'd be a bad thing how?" Bones scowls, making Jane laugh. The man has a thousand and one phobias. Someday she's going to lose track.

"You hate space, you hate transporters, and, while there are a ton of civilian postings out there for trained physicians, you still joined Starfleet. Why?"

Bones shrugs. "Was just gonna check it out, but there was this gorgeous blonde and you know how it goes -- "

"Do I ever," Jane nods. "Last time I met one of those, I damn near married her."

-

"MOM!!!!"

The transporter effect's barely faded away before Jane feels the impact of her son's body hurling itself against her legs. She laughs, catching him up in her arms and swinging him about. "Heya kiddo."

She comes to a stop, opening her eyes to see a smiling Bones watching them, a familiar blonde hovering at his elbow.

"Carol."

Jane swallows hard. Almost two years since they'd split and, still, the sight of Carol makes her heart clench.

Carol smiles, equally effected, brushing a stray hair out of her face. It's longer now and a different shade of blonde. It looks good on her. Too good. Jane can't stop staring. Not even when David tucks his head against her shoulder and wraps his arms tight around her neck.

When she doesn't immediately hug him back, he plants a smacking kiss on her cheek. "I missed you, Mom."

"I missed you too, kiddo," Jane answers, finally breaking eye contact with Carol. She looks at him. David looks like her father with just a hint of Carol and Gary peeking through. "You grew again. I distinctly remember ordering you to stop doing that."

David laughs, completely unrepentant. "Sorry."

"Guess we know who he takes after," Bones says, sotto voce, into Jane's ear.

She shoots a look at him, grinning. "Hey. I resemble that remark." Bouncing David in her arms, she angles him to face Bones. "David, you remember Bones, right?" It's not the first time they've met. With almost nightly vid calls, more often than not, Bones is there when Jane speaks to her son.

"Hi, Uncle Len," David says, shy though the greeting is. A familiar face on a vid screen is one thing. Up close and personal is a whole other ballgame, but, still, Jane can't help a feeling of relief.

Grinning, she nudges him and scolds, "I told you, David, his name is Bones."

"Is not," Bones says, grinning. "Just because you don't like using it doesn't mean everyone else can't." He takes her bag from her. "It's good to see you in person, David. I hear you're gonna be spending a few days with us."

"Uh huh," David nods. "Mom and Mama promised." He slips from Jane's arms to stand on his own two feet. It puts a lump in Jane's throat to realize how tall he's gotten. Her baby's well on his way to growing up and the idea's terrifying. "My birthday's comin' up."

"Well now, your birthday?" Bones echoes, sounding impressed, and not like he's been dragged through every shop in San Francisco for weeks on end hunting for the _perfect_ present. "That sounds like an occasion worth celebrating." He takes David by the hand, leading him a few steps away. "You got any plans for that?"

Given the opening, David launches into something that's either the biggest birthday bash the world has ever seen or the opening salvo of a Klingon invasion. Either way, Bones listens with utter fascination, nodding as they walk away.

Carol comes to Jane's side, watching them. "He's good with him."

"His daughter's about David's age." Jane bites her lip. "I've been trying to convince him to ask his ex-wife to let her visit."

"Not going well?"

"No," Jane sighs. "I don't know if she refuses to let him talk to Joanna or if Bones is just afraid to ask because it might make it worse. All I do know is that it's killing him. I almost feel guilty about bringing him here. If I can't convince Jocelyn to let Joanna visit -- We're going to spend the entire time with David, and how unfair is that?" She clenches one hand into a fist, rubbing her forehead with the other. "I'm supposed to be able to fix this."

"You never did know when to let go, did you?" Carol asks. "Always riding to the rescue." She smiles. "You treat everyone around you like a human being, but never yourself. You aren't responsible for whole galaxy, Jane."

"This isn't about me, Carol," Jane says, dismayed to feel them already falling back into familiar patterns. "This is about Bones and his daughter."

"And you blaming yourself for something that you can't control," Carol smiles. "Jane, if Leonard's ex-wife doesn't want to let him see their daughter then that's her choice and her responsibility. It has nothing to do with you."

"I know," Jane says, "I do." She ducks her head. "It's just -- he only has a couple years left. When he graduates, they'll assign him to some deep space mission and it'll be five years before he sees her again. I can't let that happen. Not without him seeing her first."

"Have you told his ex-wife this?"

"Not yet," Jane says. "I want to see her in person." Which is as much about seeing Jocelyn with her own eyes as it is trying to help Bones. "This isn't a conversation that should be held over an open channel."

Carol looks away and it takes Jane a second to realize why. Carol ended their relationship when Jane was away on the Farragut. Only days after Tycho IV.

Muttering an oath, she reaches for Carol's hand. It's cool beneath hers and she curls fingers tight. "I'm sorry, I wasn't -- I didn't mean that the way it sounded, all right? I never blamed you for that." She didn't. Jane knows Tycho IV left wounds on them both.

"I know," Carol agrees with a strained smile. "It wouldn't be like you if you did." She squeezes Jane's hand. "You're going back into space, aren't you?"

"No," Jane says. It's too quick and she knows it. "I -- " she sighs. "I don't know, Carol. A captain offered me a spot on his ship."

"And you don't know if you're going to take it?"

"I said no," Jane pushes hands into her pockets, looking up at the sky. "But it's the Enterprise -- " she hears Carol's quick intake of breath and grins. "Yeah."

"The flagship," Carol says. "Jane -- "

"I said no and I meant it. I can't go back out there, Carol. Not after what happened." She looks over, watching Bones talking to her son. The sight of it puts a lump in her throat. "And then there's David."

"Don't let him be your reason for turning down the Enterprise, Jane," Carol warns. "Don't do that to him or yourself. You'd end up resenting him and hating yourself." She leans forward, pressing a kiss to Jane's cheek. "Before you say it, it's not that I want to see you leave." She laughs, a little broken. "I think I've done enough of that for the both of us."

"Carol -- " Jane steps into Carol's space, cupping her face between her palms. "You did the right thing. Even if I never go back out there, this isn't a life everyone can lead. There are too many unknown variables." Like the Klingons and Romulans rattling their swords, the Federation's ever expanding borders, and the mysteries still hidden in every sector. "No one can predict where it will go or where I'll be reassigned."

"Or when the Enterprise will come calling."

"I told Captain Pike no," Jane reminds, letting Carol go.

"The ship isn't finished yet, right?"

"Right," Jane says slowly. "Another year and a half, why?"

"He'll ask again," Carol says. "And I know what your answer is going to be."

Jane half-smiles. "At least one of us does."

-


	2. By Our Wills - pt 2

She's on leave, but, naturally, Jane brings paperwork home with her. After they see Carol back to the transport station, Bones commandeers the Kirk family kitchen and banishes Jane and David into the living room where said paperwork is waiting.

"Mom, can we watch a vid?" David asks.

Jane casts a glance at the padd. Essays and exams waiting for her attention. Extra credit. Cadets looking to bump their grades and secure entrance into some of the advanced courses next semester.

They can wait. She did warn her students not all lessons would be in the classroom. A reminder in patience would be timely, she thinks.

"Yes," she says, and drops onto the couch. "You pick. I think I picked last time."

David rolls his eyes, but drops down in front of the screen's console anyway. "You _always_ say that."

"I like the vids you like," Jane says. In truth, she usually does. David gets his taste in books and vids from her, but it doesn't matter. She'd watch the most ridiculous vid possible as long as it meant spending time with her son. "Pick one. Bones'll have dinner ready soon."

David does and clambers up onto the couch with her. "I like him," he reveals.

"So do I," Jane agrees, running a hand over David's hair. "He's a good friend."

"Are you gonna marry him?" David asks, looking up.

Smiling, Jane shakes her head. "I don't think so." Though the idea is surprisingly appealing and there's a thought she never expected to have. Sam's the domestic one. She's the screw up. Up until now, it's been pretty much business as usual.

She looks at David, revising that. Business as usual with a side trip into unbelievably lucky.

"Not even a term marriage?" David continues and, now, she can see the hope in his eyes. "Cause I like him and you smile a lot when he's here."

Jane leans over, kissing the top of David's head. "I don't think a term marriage either." She pauses, trying to find the right words to explain it. "At least, not now." She lowers her voice, not wanting Bones to overhear. As much as she does need to explain things to her son, she doesn't want to put him in an uncomfortable position. They've never tried to define things and she doesn't want to. She doesn't want either one of them hamstrung by a label. "Bones just came out of a divorce, David."

Her son is a brilliant little boy, but more than that, he has a huge heart. Her words have David nodding, a sympathetic expression on his little face. He looks back at the kitchen where they can both hear Bones whistling to himself. "He hurts."

"Yeah," Jane says, "a lot." She squeezes her son. "What say you and me try and fix that a little?" She wants to be the one taking care of Bones for once. He's been fixing her for months. It's only fair.

David grins at her. "Deal."

 

-

Jane wakes to the touch of Bones' hand on her shoulder. Her side feels cold, empty, and she blinks sleepily, feeling for her son. "David -- "

"Just carried him to bed," Bones says in a low murmur. He's there then, settling in on the couch beside her. "Didn't even twitch. He's definitely down for the count."

His arm drops down around her shoulders and Jane resists the urge to squirm closer. Well, for at least the next few seconds anyway. She's as stiff as hell from accommodating David's weight and the urge to snuggle into Bones is overruled by the urge to stretch out.

"Good," she says, yawning. She stretches, arms over her head, body pulling tight. It feels _amazing_. Even more so when she catches sight of Bones watching her. "Like what you see, Doctor?"

In the dark, she can't see his blush, but she can see the flustered grin. "Don't know what the hell you did to me," Bones says. "Haven't been this damn horny since I was a kid."

Laughing, Jane turns to face him, hand resting on his stomach. "Is that a complaint I hear, Bones? Frankly, I don't see the problem with it."

Bones takes her hand and moves it downward, pressing against the growing hardness in his pants, complaining all the while, "Oh I dunno, how about the part where you're in here asleep on the couch with your _kid_ and all I can think about is how long it's been since I touched you?" There's a catch in his voice and Jane can _feel_ the sappy subtext.

She grins and slides over to sit on his lap. "I can think of worse things to be obsessed with," Jane says. She rocks herself downward, her hips making a lazy move of it, just enough to make him groan. "God knows, I've been a little obsessed with you myself." If little meant very graphic and very _creative_ fantasies at all hours of the day.

She runs her hands up and down his chest, fingers leisurely flicking the buttons open, while she watches the simmering frustration in his eyes. It's always fun when she does this. Admittedly, she's a little sadistic about testing his patience, but it's so much _fun_.

Curling her fingers into his shirt, she rocks down again, pleased by his soft hiss of pleasure.

"A little, huh?" he says, fingers digging into her hips.

"Mmhmm," she leans forward, planting a kiss on his jaw. The scruff of his stubble is rough beneath her mouth, pleasantly so, and she does it again. He turns his mouth toward hers, but Jane ducks and sucks a mark into his neck. When she nips, he mutters an oath and bucks upward into her. "I've spent _far_ too much time daydreaming about that sound you make when you come." She licks her lips and nuzzles into his neck, enjoying the way he leans into her. "You should see me, Bones. The middle of a class, kids throwing questions at me left, right, and center, and all I can think about is Dr. Leonard McCoy, all naked and active and making this _noise_."

Her body rocks into his, finding an easy rhythm, and he responds with a low groan.

"Nope, that's not it," she says. "It's a little more incoherent. Maybe some babbling, but mostly just _noise_." She can't describe it, but she remembers it.

She slides back off of him, going to her knees on the floor, and he gapes. "The hell?"

Laughing, Jane reaches for his belt. "While I'd like nothing better than to throw you down and fuck you into next year, but my son is a light sleeper." She yanks her belt free of his waist and tosses it down. "Better take the edge off first."

He leans forward, trying to hook his pants down over his hips, no easy feat all things considered, and she takes the opportunity to kiss him. It's awkward, messy, and he damn near falls forward on her, but it's still enough to make her squirm. If her Bones-fixation can be broken down into its component parts, her obsession with his mouth runs pretty close to her obsession with another body part.

When they come up for air, she teases, "You might want to cover your mouth."

Bones gives her a wary look. "See, now, when you go and talk like that, you make a man nervous."

Jane makes sure her grin is it's most innocent as she skims her nails up his thighs. "Well, Bones, that's a crying shame, because the ideas I'm having? Well, they're _really_ hot."

She lets her fingers run very lightly over the head of his cock, thumb lingering on the tip. Bones responds by slumping down onto the couch, his head falling back into the cushions. He licks his lower lip, breathing deep and even, and Jane could watch him like this _forever_. "Now, about my ideas, I do have one little question," she asks, reluctantly breaking the moment.

He opens his eyes, looking at her with an expression that makes her squirm, getting wetter by the second. It always does. When Bones looks at her like that, like she's already naked and riding his cock, Jane has to fight to make it last, to resist the urge to climb into his lap.

She slides hand down the length of him, back up again, and leans forward, her forearms on his knees. "Think you can be very, _very_ quiet when you come?"

He's halfway hard when she wraps her hand around him, giving him a few lazy strokes.

"Jane -- " Bones warns, hand on her shoulder, in her hair, sliding strands through his fingers. "This is _crazy_."

"Not if you're very quiet it's not," Jane says. She leans in, bringing him to her mouth, and looks up at Bones. "Trust me," she adds, almost innocent, "Carol and I? We could be _really_ quiet." She doesn't mention his ex. She doesn't want him thinking about Jocelyn tonight and not just for the obvious reason.

He groans. Whether it's from her lips brushing his cock or the picture she's painting in his mind Jane doesn't know or care. She just goes with it, sliding her mouth over him while her hand works the base.

Bones stifles another groan, the hand that had been patting her hair now curling tight while the other presses flat against the wall. Jane hums a laugh just to test his control.

His hand jerks, yanking her hair. She winces against the sudden tears Jane hears a whispered, "Shit, sorry, Ja--" Bones cuts off at her look, fingers digging into his hip. "Shut up?"

Jane pulls off him and stands. "It'd be a good idea." She pulls her own shirt over her head, dropping it on the couch beside him. The rest of her clothes follow a second later and then she's on him. "Or, at least," she grins, "make some more interesting noises."

His answer to that is to make one of those interesting noises. His hands find her hips and hold on loosely. Jane laughs, grabbing one of those hands and giving it a little push. "What?" she teases, moving hard and fast. "You think _I'm_ going to do all the work?"

She kisses him as she rides him, never still, always nipping and biting, rocking and teasing. They're both panting, dizzy and light-headed as they suck ragged breaths into their lungs. She ducks to the right, mouth going to his ear. If she does it right, sucks just hard enough, there's a spot guaranteed to drive Bones completely out of his mind.

Jane _really_ likes that spot.

He presses his face against her shoulder, teeth scoring the skin, as she works it. His hands dig into her hips, holding tighter, and she can _feel_ him start to lose it. He stutters, jerks, bites, and then she's the one coming. Surprised, Jane lets herself enjoy it anyway. After all, it's Bones. She never goes anywhere that he isn't just two-steps behind.

"One of these days," he says, later, when they're too lazy to even think of moving, "you're gonna fuck my brains right out of my head, you know that?"

Jane laughs, biting his shoulder to make it twin to hers. "I live in hope."

 

-

She steps out of the house, glancing back at the dark windows for a moment, then digs around in her pocket for her communicator. Flipping it open, she fiddles to get the right channel before saying, "Kirk to Yorktown; Gary, you up?"

"Yorktown here, one moment, Commander Kirk," a voice says.

It takes Jane a second to connect it with Lieutenant Colt and, in the time it does, Gary answers.

"Hey Janie," he drawls. "How's business? Still ruining the minds of Starfleet's best and brightest?"

"God, I hope so," she answers.

"That's my girl," he says, laughing. "How's the little man? Tell me some of the old Mitchell charm's managed to overcome the sensible Marcus DNA?"

"Hell no," Jane says, grinning. "You know Kirk DNA is _much_ superior to both. David's fine, thanks for asking, he's back at the house at the moment, actually. You should drop by and visit before Yorktown ships out."

"Plan on it," Gary says. "Maybe I can meet this Bones you keep talking about?"

Jane pictures that one, remembering all the stories Bones could pull out of Gary. "Yeah," she says, shaking her head, "I'll work on that. Listen, Gary, I need a favor. Hush hush sort of thing."

"Sure," Gary says. "Where you want to go?"

She gives him the co-ordinates. "I'd ask how you know -- "

"Calling this hour of the night, Iowa time?" Gary laughs. "As if you'd want anything else."

"I'm good, thanks, Gary," Jane says. "I owe you one."

"You kidding me?" Gary scoffs. "You owe me like fifty."

"Try the other way around," Jane says, with a roll of her eyes. "Kirk out." She waits a heartbeat and, true to his word, the transporter takes her.

-

Jocelyn McCoy is a beautiful woman. Even half-asleep and half-dressed, she's stunning. Looking at her, Jane can see the young woman Bones fell in love with. It's almost difficult to remember that, as Bones's best friend, she's all but honor bound to hate the woman.

"I'm sorry to disturb you this early," Jane says.

"It's five o'clock in the morning," Jocelyn drawls. "This'd damn well better be good." Folding her arms, she looks at Jane with a suspicious look. "Miss -- "

"Commander," Jane says, surprising herself.

Jocelyn's eyes widen with alarm. "Oh god, Len -- "

"Is fine," Jane hurries to say. "I -- " She shakes her head. "I'm sorry. I don't even know why I gave my rank. I'm Jane Kirk. I'm an instructor at the Academy. Bones -- I mean, Leonard, is a friend of mine. I didn't mean to scare you."

"Well, you did," Jocelyn says, her tone taking on a frosty edge. Jane doesn't blame her. So much for Starfleet's crack command training. She's bungling this in fine style. "Now, Commander Kirk, if there's nothing wrong with Leonard -- "

"He is. Mostly." Jane pinches the bridge of her nose, resisting the habit to put her hands on her hips. "If you ignore the fact he misses his daughter so much it's practically killing him. His class is currently on leave. As of this particular moment, he's asleep in my house in Iowa." God, she _hopes_ he's still asleep. If this doesn't work and he wakes up, she's a dead woman.

Jocelyn's eyes narrow. "You're his girlfriend. You're his _instructor_ and you're _sleeping with him_?"

Jane takes a deep breath, looks Bones' ex-wife in the eye, and lies. Mostly. "Hardly." Which is true in a certain manner of speaking. She isn't Bones' instructor. She's never taught the man a single course, never will, and, at this particular moment, she is neither asleep or with him.

Whatever else she's failed at, Jane will always get top marks in bullshit.

"Please, Ms -- " Jane shakes her head. "Please. I came to ask you to let him see Joanna. He won't ask you himself and I am quite serious when I say it's practically killing him. Most of Starfleet's upcoming missions are five year explorations. The new Constellation class will be rolled out in a year with the Enterprise. Given his accomplishments, I don't doubt that Captain Pike will make sure Dr. McCoy is among the medical staff. I know that his instructors include Pike's CMO, so the captain is certainly aware of his skills."

"And this matters to me how?"

"It'll be another five years before Leonard can see his daughter again." Jane thinks of David. "There is a chance that I'll be on one of those ships too and the thought of going five years without holding my son -- " She clears her throat. "Whatever your differences are? I can't imagine they're so bad that you could justify doing that to him."

She falls silent then, waiting for Jocelyn's answer. She has more arguments lined up if she needs them, of course. More emotional appeals, flat out statements of logic, and a friend in the Starfleet JAG Corps with plenty of experience in Fleet-related custody battles.

Whatever she has to do, she isn't beaming back to Iowa without Jocelyn's agreement. Not even if she has to call half of Starfleet to help her.

-

She's in the kitchen, drinking coffee, when Bones stumbles in. He's rumpled, sleepy, and cute as hell. Without a word, she passes the mug to him and gets a muttered, "Thanks," in response.

Leonard McCoy: Not. A. Morning. Person. Of course, with the workout she'd given him the night before, Jane knows she's at least a little to blame, but it was all for a good cause.

She fills a new mug for herself and brushes a kiss against his cheek before meandering back to the food synthesizer. "Breakfast?"

He grunts. "That's not breakfast, that's slop."

Jane looks over her shoulder. "Well, I'm not letting you cook," she says, grinning. "You're still half-asleep, Bones, and I'm shit with a dermal regenerator."

"Don't know why," he grumbles, "all the damn practice you get."

She raises an eyebrow. "Extra grouchy this morning, huh?" Abandoning the synthesizer, she reaches for him, sliding a beneath his shirt. "What's the matter, Bones? Prefer breakfast in bed?"

He looks at her and she can see him trying to hold out. The thing about Bones is, even when he's pissed at her, he can never say no. She closes the distance between their mouths, kissing him deeply, morning breath and all. Again, he holds out, trying to keep the kiss as close to nonexistent as possible, but she flicks her tongue against his lips, thigh pressing hard against him, and he gives in.

Oh yeah, she's good.

His arms lower around her, coffee cup warm against her back, and he walks them backward against the counter. She hears the thud of the mug against the antique wood just before both of Bones' hands slide down her body and press against her ass.

She grins into the kiss. That, it seems, is one of _his_ favorite body parts.

"There," she says, when they come up for air, "isn't that better?"

"You left last night," he says, staring at her. "Woke up and you were gone. Could've left a note if you felt like hitting a bar."

Jane smiles and takes his face between her hands. The kiss she gives him this time is a chaste one. Friendship. He's worried about her. Not jealous, not _entirely_, she knows that. Bones has always been grudgingly accepting of her, whatever terms she wants to exist by are fine by him, but he still worries.

"I didn't go 'out' for something like that," she says, backing away from him. "Promise."

"Then -- "

Jane laughs, nodding behind him. "I had to pick someone up." Technically, she didn't pick anyone up. She just arranged the beam-in, but that's splitting hairs that don't need splitting.

Besides, Bones finds out she let his daughter go through the transporter, it'll be three days after the heat death of the universe before she gets fucked again.

"Someone--" Bones turns and she laughs. "Am I supposed to be your alibi, Jane? Is my ex lying somewhere with a phaser burn where her head used to be?"

"No, Jocelyn is very much alive, thank you," Jane says, wrapping arms around his middle and resting her chin on his shoulder. She gives him a little nudge, moving him closer to the window to see their kids chasing each other around the backyard. "We had ourselves a nice talk and then, this morning, Joanna came to visit. David loves her." She laughs again. "I'm reasonably certain he isn't going to want to give her back."

"Know the feeling," Bones breathes.

Jane releases him. "Go say hello to your daughter, Bones. Something tells me she's missed you."

She steps away, not minding a bit that she's absolutely forgotten the second he steps out the door.

-

"I know about the Farragut," Bones says later, coming out on the porch and pushing a glass into her hand.

Jane doesn't look up, doesn't look away from where David and Joanna are hunched over an old bike. If she had to guess, she'd think they were trying to fix it, but the wild gestures and peals of laughter suggest it's putting up a fight.

He sits beside her, the porch swing rocking with the movement. Bourbon splashes on Jane's fingers and she starts to shake it off. Bones catches her hand and brings it to his mouth instead, a look of absolute devilment in his eyes.

The swipe of his tongue over her skin has her lips parting, a slight gasp punctuating the silence, and she watches him with wide eyes. "Bones -- "

His smile is faint, but mischievous as he lets go of her hand. "Never waste good alcohol."

She laughs. "And the kids -- "

Bones gives her a Spock-like eyebrow. "You hear any 'ew gross, Mom/Dads' coming from anyone?"

She shakes her head.

He waves a hand and relaxes. "I rest my case."

Jane wishes he wouldn't. She can see the psychotherapy attempt coming a light year off. "Leave it alone, _Leonard_."

"Can't," he says. "From what I hear, you've left it alone for too damn long. I suppose you know it wasn't your fault?"

"So I've been told," Jane says. By the XO, by the counselors, by Pike, and by half a dozen different people between here and Orion. "_Many_ times." And will be told many times more. "It doesn't change anything. Not for me."

Bones thumps a foot against the deck. "Goddamn it, Jane. You gonna spend the rest of your career hiding at Starfleet Academy?"

"Probably," she says, swallowing a mouthful of bourbon. "Why? Pike pay you a visit?"

He shakes his head.

Jane looks at him, narrowing her eyes, and then realizes. "Boyce." Pike's Chief Medical Officer. "He's teaching a seminar at the Academy."

This time, Bones nods. "Used the Tycho IV incident as part of a lecture. Imagine my shock when a certain 'Lieutenant Jane Kirk' came up in conversation."

She can just bet that wasn't an accident and says as much.

"You think Pike knows about us?" Bones asks, looking - all puns strictly unintended - a little green around the gills.

Jane snickers. "After the way you busted into my class? The whole _campus_ knows. Pike -- well, he pays more attention to the goings on than the commandant does." Mercifully. She's not going to enjoy _that_ meeting.

"Thought I told you never mention that again," Bones grouses. "I'd almost forgotten it."

Patting his leg, Jane smiles. "I'll make it up to you later," she says with a searing look that makes him choke on his bourbon. "Promise." She settles back into her seat, going back to watching her son and his daughter playing. It's scarily domestic. More than she's felt in years and there's a part of her that'd be satisfied to have it just like this for the rest of her life.

Except.

They'd passed the Enterprise and the shipyard on their way from the transport station.

Down deep, she can feel it: the restlessness, the urge to answer the ship's call, to go back out there.

She crushes it in favor of focusing on her son's face. This is the first time in his life that David's had her this close for this long. She's not going to take that away from him now. She can't.

"I don't want to go back to space," she says, lying to herself as much as Bones. "I like it right here."

"No you don't," he says. "You're doing a damn good job of pretending, but you don't. You want to be out there. You _belong_ on a starship. Anybody who knows you can see that. Don't go kidding yourself that _David_ can't. He saw you when you looked at the Enterprise. You want it and you want it so bad you can taste it."

"I just don't think I can do it, Bones," Jane says, "I can't go back out there and face -- " She finishes her drink. "There's no room on a starship for ghosts."

"Yeah, well, no room down here either," he says. "You think I like sharing a bed with you and all of them too?" He takes her hands, turning her to face him. "You can get past this, Jane, you just don't want to."

"The hell I don't!" she snaps. "You think I _like_ feeling like this?"

"No," Bones answers, maddeningly calm. "No, I don't, but I do think wallowing in guilt is easier than admitting it. I saw your service record, Jane. I know what that kind of promotion rate means."

"Starfleet's golden girl," Jane says, hollow and empty. "A legend in the making."

"Except you hesitated. You were caught off guard, a quite understandable human reaction if you're wondering, and you hesitated for a second. Not even that much. Not long enough to make any kind of a difference, but that doesn't matter to you. A legend isn't supposed to hesitate, right?"

Jane glares.

Apparently, it's answer enough.

Bones nods in satisfaction. "Right." He shakes his head. "Bullshit. You know what people think about Tycho IV, Jane? They think it's a damn miracle _anybody_ survived. They think that you and the XO pulled off the impossible getting the ship out of there when you did."

"We turned and _ran_, Bones!" Jane bursts out. "We turned and ran. We let the captain's killer get away!"

"You saved the lives of the rest of the crew," Bones argues. "You think you should have stayed? Fought? Let the death toll be four hundred instead of two?" He lowers his voice, leaning toward her. "Or maybe just one more."

"No," Jane says, pulling away from him. "It's not that. I don't have a death wish, Bones."

"No, but you still haven't forgiven yourself for being alive when they aren't. How many parents didn't get to go home to their little boys, right? Why should you get the privilege when they didn't?" Bones' gaze is too knowing and Jane tenses, ready to run, to be anywhere but here, listening to this. "I don't have an answer for that, Jane. Some of it's skill. Some of it's luck. Maybe the universe thought it owed you one. Whatever it is, you're here, they're not, and you owe it to them and David to do something with that chance. Something that isn't running and hiding."

"I doubt David would call it that," Jane says, stubborn.

"Not yet," Bones replies, "but in time that'll change. Right now, he looks at you like you're Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, and Hercules all rolled into one. The world's greatest hero in a Starfleet uniform. Some day, he's going to look at you, realize what you gave up, and -- " he shrugs. "You won't be that person anymore."

"We all realize that," Jane says. "Our parents aren't perfect."

"No, but they're not cowards either," Bones says. "You hide here, Jane. You use _him_ as an excuse to hide and that's exactly what you're going to be."

It would be easier, she thinks, if he were angry. Easier if this were an accusation. An insult. Something she could deflect.

She can't deflect this. Not this gentle, stubborn calm. Looking at Bones, she can see the concern, the tenderness, and the genuine hope and she can't.

"I don't want to talk about this anymore," she says quietly.

He smiles and kisses her. "Okay."

It's not the end of it, she knows that, but for now, Jane'll take what she can get.

-

Jane's grading papers - oh _joy_ \- when the door chimes. Happy for the distraction, she sits back. "Come."

It's no particular surprise when Captain Pike sticks his head into the room. Pike's been true to his word, not repeating his offer, but she's felt his, and Starfleet's, scrutiny. They're vetting her for a ranking position on the Enterprise. They're _really_ vetting her and Jane feels something suspiciously akin to butterflies in her stomach.

"Captain," she says, keeping her voice even. "Something I can do for you?"

He steps further into the room, eyes twinkling with mischief. Jane's guard goes up, watching him approach. "Well, actually, yes." Before she can protest, he raises a hand. "I'm not asking about it, I promise." His grin widens. "I just thought I'd sweeten the pot a little."

Jane drums a stylus against her desk. "Define sweeten." Crossing her legs, she leans back in her chair and watches him with feigned disinterest. "Because Dr. Boyce has been doing plenty of that on his own." She jabs the stylus in his general direction. "You're poaching my doctor, Captain. Don't think I don't know it."

"The hell I am," Pike says, grinning. "I just trust Phil's judgment. If Leonard McCoy's half the doctor that Phil says he is, there's no other assignment good enough for him."

"Oh, he's that and then some," Jane says, unable to say otherwise. It's not fair to Bones to even try. Besides, he'd probably hit her with a hypo of something damn inconvenient if she did.

"Then you concede the point?"

"Nope," Jane grins. "I'm just agreeing with you that he's a hell of a doctor. It's precisely why he's _my_ doctor." And neither one of them is stupid enough to pretend her meaning isn't precisely what it sounds like.

"Is he aware of that status?" Pike asks. There's a certain caution there that makes Jane grin. Bones hasn't even heard the offer yet and Pike's already treating him like one of the crew. "Or are you just blowing hot air?"

"Oh, he's aware," Jane says. She sits up, not wanting to play around with explaining this. "I'm not sure if he's aware just how far that goes," she looks at Pike, not quite able to believe they're having _this_ discussion, "but he's aware." She tips her head, smile rueful. "No, I haven't exactly curtailed my extracurriculars. To be honest, I'm a little hesitant to."

"He gunshy?" Pike asks.

"I get that feeling," Jane says. "I'm not putting any names on it, but there's definitely an it." She digs at dirt under her fingernail. "That's not going to be a problem is it?"

"What?" Pike asks, raising an eyebrow. "With?" He seems to realize what she's asking then and laughs. "The way he chews you out? Hell no. Whatever you two do, or don't do, off-duty doesn't seem to affect the doctor's judgment one wit."

"Not for lack of trying," Jane says, rubbing her neck. "He's jabbed me so many times with that fucking hypo, it's a damn miracle there isn't a permanent scar."

"Get used to it," Pike says. "I swear, Boyce has an unnatural fondness for his. They must teach a class on it in Medical." Walking forward, he rests his palms on her desk and leans in. "But, anyway, we've wandered a little. I came here with an offer."

"So you did," Jane says, leaning toward him as well. "Care to make it, Captain?"

Pike's grin is almost boyish as he whispers, "She's ready."

"She?" It takes her a second to make the connection. When she does, Jane feels her heart begin to race. "The Enterprise?"

Pike nods. "How about it, Commander? Care to take a private tour?"

-

Jane leads the way onto the bridge. A half-built skeleton, the Enterprise was beautiful. Completed, she's fucking _gorgeous_ and Jane falls in love. Hard, fast, and for real.

"Oh my god," she breathes, turning in a slow circle, her gaze taking in the whole of the bridge. The metal struts have been cloaked, hidden beneath a wall of technology and screens. They're quiet, powered down, but it doesn't take much to imagine them lit and active. "It's --"

"Yeah," Pike says, voice rough, "it is." She looks back at him and finds him staring with the same kind of awe. She watches him take in his command for the first time, all whispered promises wrapped up in gleaming panels and an invitation to dream.

The same invitation reaches out to Jane, coaxing its way into her soul, it's seductive whisper awakening sensations she hasn't felt in years. She remembers this. She remembers the drive to get here. The pure, naked _want_ that had propelled her through the Academy and up through the ranks.

This. _This_. This promise is hers. This is what she wants. What she's _always_ wanted.

Captain Kirk.

She doesn't realize she's murmured it aloud until she feels Captain Pike at her back. His hands land briefly on her shoulders, hot and heavy, sliding down her arms to draw her backward.

Coming into contact with him, she breathes out. He's hard.

"Someday," he says into her ear, "but not today and not this ship."

The possessive edge on the words has Jane's eyes sliding shut and, for a moment, she leans back against him, pliant in his arms. The man's been her personal snake in the garden for three years, dangling this ship in front of her and now --

Now she wants it more than anything. Her hands move, restless, looking for something, anything, and they're caught by Pike. Warm, solid, and Jane bites her lip against a moan.

"This one's _mine_," Pike says, squeezing her hands tight.

She swallows, gulping down a breath, so turned on that she can barely hear him over the sound of her heartbeat thundering in her ears. "Fight you for her," she quips.

"Not today," he says, and turns her around. "I seem to remember asking you a question a few year ago, Commander," he says. "Do you remember that particular question?"

Jane presses her lips together. Remember? She's never forgotten it. Standing in the shipyards, staring up at the Enterprise, all her dreams wrapped up in metal and fantasy, the siren song that would lure her back to the stars. "Vaguely," she says finally, regaining her control. She shifts around him, brushing his body with hers in a slow drag that pulls him with her, drawing him down to the chair. _The_ chair. "I thought we weren't going to talk about that."

She runs hands over the leather, imagines sitting in it, at the heart of the bridge. The heart of the ship. Everyone and everything waiting on her word. Her ship. She lets herself imagine that for a moment and, god, he's right. She doesn't know how she left this behind.

"We weren't," he says, watching her. "I changed my mind. Captain's prerogative."

With a smirk in Pike's direction, Jane hops into the captain's chair.

"You don't listen well, Commander," he says, a gleam of interest in his eye.

"Just trying it on for size," she says, all innocence as she crosses her legs. "So? What do you think?"

"It suits you," Pike admits. He closes the distant between them, resting is hands on the arm of the chair, and leans in. "Unless I miss my guess, Commander, I think I have my answer."

Jane smiles. "Do you?"

"Oh, I think so," Pike says. "You should see yourself, Jane. The look on your face is -- " he smiles. "You want this. Hell, you were born for this."

"So I've heard," Jane says. "Not sure that I believe it."

"The hell you don't," he counters. "You believe it. More than that, Commander, you want this. You want this more than anything you've ever wanted in your life."

"No," Jane says. "Not lately." She thinks of Bones. Of David. The life she has with them. She looks at the bridge again, weighing it against that. Not so long from now, this ship will be Bones' home, David staying behind on Earth, and Jane --

She meets Pike's eyes soberly. "I'm not sure what I want anymore, Chris."

He straightens, looking at her. "I think that you do. There's no shame in it, Commander. You wouldn't be the first parent in Starfleet. You wouldn't even be the first one on a deep space mission or on this ship. Arrangements can be made."

"I know," Jane says. "I -- "

Pike pulls her out of the chair. "Your son isn't an excuse, Commander."

"No, sir," Jane says, crisp and calm. "He is, however, the biggest consideration in my life. I won't walk out on him."

"You won't be," he says. "I know you know this, Jane. Your son loves you. He knows you love him. We can make this work, Jane, you know that. The question is, what are you going to do about it?"

She looks past him at the ship, then she turns her head to look at him. The fire of earlier is still there, banked in his eyes. She knows it won't take much to draw it out. She knows it's insane that she still wants to.

This is a bad idea. This is the baddest of bad ideas.

All things considered, Jane thinks it's one of the best bad ideas she's ever had.

She's five seconds from signing onto this man's crew, this man's ship, _this ship_ and fucking it up would be the biggest mistake of her life and she doesn't _care_. She's on him in a second. Or, maybe, he's on her, Jane's not sure and she doesn't care. They stumble together, legs tangling, falling back into the navigation console which registers its protest with a squealing alarm before they end up on the floor.

One of them curses, the other laughs, and then Jane's looking down at him.

"If we do this -- " Pike begins.

Jane smirks, curling fingers into the fabric of his tunic. "Don't worry, sir, I'll still be a pain in the ass in the morning."

"Not what I was worried about, Commander," he says, but he's laughing and that was the plan.

"I know," she says, skimming her mouth across his. "Trust me, sir, I'm not looking for breakfast and roses." She closes her eyes, nipping at his jaw, and sees Bones' face. "This isn't about that."

He pushes a hand into her hair, pulling her mouth to his again. She kisses him, deep and messy, squirming on him. "Then what's it about, Commander?"

Jane moves, a slow, lazy glide of her hips that snaps his focus on her, as intent as a phaser strike. "Ship fetish." She tips her head, grinning. "Now, sir, I have a question for you."

Pike grins, calm and confident. "And that question would be?"

Jane sits back, equally calm and confident, and pulls her shirt over her head. She holds it loosely for a moment, watching the way his eyes roam over her body. When she's ready, she throws it aside, and leans forward. "What are you so afraid of?"

Pike watches it sail across the room before he turns back to her, his finger skimming her bare sides. "Honestly?"

She nods, unsnapping her bra. "Yes, honestly."

He grins. "An interruption."

"Oh come on," Jane says, leaning forward. She rubs her body against his, listening to his breath catch as her breasts drag against the material covering his chest. "That's half the fun."

Pike responds with a grunt as she grinds into him, his cock hard beneath her. "The idea that someone'll walk in here and find us?" Jane trails kisses down his throat, biting his shoulder playfully as she rocks harder. He joins in the movement this time, his hands guiding the glide of her hips, pushing her against him where he needs it.

"Don't tell me you haven't at least _thought_ about it," she teases, working his shirt over his head. "I might be dreaming of hyposprays and grouchy boys in blue, but I know that's an acquired taste." She reaches back, palming him through his uniform pants. "I know who you dream about."

"Do you now?" he breathes, hoarse as he thrusts up. "All right, then, just who am I dreaming about, Commander?"

Jane leans forward, whispering it in his ear, "I've seen Number One, sir. Serve with someone like that and not be in love with her? A woman _that_ gorgeous? It's impossible."

He follows her up, sitting into her as he tugs her pants over her hips, and fuck she should've worn the skirt. She wants skin on skin _now_. "Let's leave her out of this."

There's an edge on his voice that peaks Jane's interest. She pushes him down again, her hands on his shoulders, and lets her body move against his slowly. "Why?" she asks. "Wishing she were here instead?"

She hops up, unembarrassed by her nudity, and pulls him with her. "Not a bad idea," she says. "We should have invited her along."

That makes him laugh. "She'd kill us both."

"Mm, no," Jane says, wrinkling her nose. "I don't think that she would." She puts a hint of innuendo into her comment, sliding fingers along his cock, squeezing just enough to make him groan. "I think she'd enjoy this." She walks him backward, toward the captain's chair, her smile wide. "In fact, I think she'd enjoy this even more than I am."

She pushes him into the chair, sliding into his lap and onto his cock as she does so. They both groan, Pike's hands grabbing hold of her hips, digging in as he pulls her onto him.

"You realize, Commander," he says, his tongue chasing a bead of sweat down her chest, "that I'll _never_ be able to look at this chair the same way ever again?"

Getting herself situated in said, Jane quickly sets a pace, riding him hard. "That, sir, was the point."

Pike lets his head fall back against the chair as they fuck. The line of his neck is a tempting target and Jane can't resist it. His skin is hot and salty beneath her lips and she sucks hard, determined to leave a mark. "Don't tell me," she says against his throat, "that this isn't a fantasy _every_ captain has at least once." She rocks back to grin at him with delight. "Boring shift, cataloging anomalies, sitting there while the crew does all the work -- I know you've thought about it."

She nips at his ear and whispers, "In fact, with Number One around, I bet you thought about it a _lot_."

His hips jerk, stuttering upward, and she laughs. He's not the first captain to fall for his XO, but none of those officers could even think of holding a candle to Number One.

"You're going to be the death of me, Commander," Pike says.

"Just as long as it's the right one, sir," Jane says, clenching tight around him.

He mutters an oath, pulling her mouth to his. Jane doesn't fight it, lets him kiss her as hard as he wants, teeth and tongue clashing and bumping together as they fight for control.

One of Pike's hands pushes between them, the one not tangled in a fistful of her hair, sliding over the sweat-slick skin of her thigh and down between her legs. She knows it's coming, but the first brush of his finger on her clit has Jane crying out into the kiss.

He laugh, smug, and does it again.

Sensing the upper hand shifting away from her, she breaks off the kiss to swear at him, but Pike is ready for that. His mouth goes to her chest, throat, nipping and kissing, and Jane's lost. The pleasured burn goes through her at warp speed and she's coming with a keening cry of satisfaction.

It's a blur, but somewhere in there, she feels the rhythm of their movements stutter, fail, and then he's groaning into her ear. By the time she comes out of it, Pike is sitting, spent, beneath her, a small smile of satisfaction firmly fixed on his face.

Not ready to try testing out her legs, Jane relaxes against him. "All things considered, sir, I think I'll answer that question later."

"All things considered, Commander, I'd tell you to shut it if you even tried."

-

"I'm sorry?"

Jane looks up at the astonished cadet standing before her. "I said no, Cadet. Your application to the course is denied." She hands back the PADD. "At this time, I don't think that you're ready for Advanced Tactical training."

Uhura straightens her spine. "With respect, Commander, I disagree. I think I am very much ready for this course. If you've seen my record -- "

"I'd see that, on paper, you're light years ahead of some officers with ten years more experience." Jane quirks a smile. "I do know. Contrary to popular belief, I do actually know how to read." Leaning back in her chair, she watches Uhura struggle for her words. This is, she imagines, a new experience for her. She does wonder if Uhura is afraid to fail, but she's sure that to be denied the chance to try is maddening. "Yes, Cadet, you are brilliant. Top marks. I'd bet a year's credits that you'll graduate the Academy as Lieutenant j.g. with a slew of commendations under your belt."

"But?" Uhura asks, eyes narrowing.

God, that look is familiar. Seeing it on someone else's face is hysterical. She tries not to laugh, but can't quite close the deal.

"Is something the matter, Commander?" Uhura asks tightly.

"Not with you, Cadet," Jane assures. "I'm just enjoying a moment of comeuppance. My own," she hastens to add before the cadet can, understandably, take offense. "It wasn't so many years ago that I was the one standing before the instructor of this course demanding to be let in. Didn't work on him either."

She sits straight, lacing her hands together on the desk. "Cadet, you are a brilliant woman. You're the kind of officer that makes the Brass _salivate_ with glee. I'm sure that there are captains already fighting over who gets you on their ship. No doubt, Starfleet Intelligence is nosing around as well. You will be an invaluable addition to whatever assignment you pull. You are not, however, ready for this course. There is a reason why it is only open to officers active in the field and as much as I empathize with your frustration, my decision remains the same. No."

Uhura nods. It's not an acceptance and Jane knows it. She also knows that this? This will not end well.

-

Not too much later and her door chimes. She'll give Spock that much. The man is nothing if not annoyingly prompt. "Come."

"Commander Kirk."

Jane doesn't even look up. "She's not ready, Commander. As promising as she is, there's nothing that will get her ready other than a few years in space."

"With respect, Commander," Spock says, "I disagree."

She has to give him that too. Whatever discipline tricks Spock's rocking, he's got every single one of them cold. Anyone who overheard would never even guess what Uhura is to him. Right now, of course, that connection doesn't matter. They both know that.

"Well, of course you do," Jane says, finally meeting his gaze. "You've had a great impact on that woman's career. I don't doubt for a second that it was through you she found out this course even existed." She found out from a mentor of her own. Captain April had tried his best to get her into the program. Tried and failed. She smiles at the memory of his frustration. "You're not the first one to try."

"You refer to a past incident to which I am unfamiliar," Spock says, perhaps a little stiff. Nervous maybe? Impatient?

Not that it matters, Jane decides, her smile widening. "A mentor of mine once tried to get me into this program. I too was a most promising cadet."

"You see something of yourself in Cadet Uhura," Spock suggests.

She lets the comment pass. "I wasn't ready for it then either." Gathering PADDs, she rises from the desk and crosses the room to put them away. "You might as well forget it, Mr. Spock. I won't change my mind." Turning around, she adds, "The refusal will be good for her. A learning experience in its own right. Rocket rides up the ranks rarely end well." She's one to know.

He considers this. "You make a fair point," he agrees. "However, I find that I must still question your motives."

There's nothing insinuated in the comment. At least, by his tone there isn't, but Jane knows him better than that. Spock is a master at a lot more than 3D chess. His talent for landing near undetectable insults is legend.

Or, at least, it is to those who aren't regular targets of the man. Jane turns around to face him with a slight smirk of annoyance. "You 'must' question my motives. Are you sure you're phrasing that properly, Spock? I stated my position, a quite logical one if I do say so myself, and yet you're still questioning it? Really?"

He puts his hands behind his back, posture tightening. A Vulcan on the defensive really is something to behold. "Yes. It is no secret I have taken an interest in Cadet Uhura's career. I find her to be an exceptionally talented cadet and, as such, believe she will be an equally talented officer."

"A finding, Mr. Spock, I have absolutely no qualms about," Jane agrees. "She's going to be a hell of an officer and the day she is? I'll recommend her for this program myself."

"And yet -- "

"And yet we've already had this discussion, Mr. Spock. She's not ready. She's inexperienced. You and I both know that this program regularly conducts field assignments. There is no way in hell I am going to get a _cadet_ go on one of those missions." Jane takes a step forward, crowding in on his personal space.

Grudgingly, she has to give him credit. Spock doesn't flinch.

Well, she isn't done with him yet. "You know, it's funny. You're questioning my motives while I, for once, didn't even think to question yours." She clenches her hands around the PADD. Somewhere in her mind, she pictures herself writing 'I will not punch the pointy-eared bastard, I will not punch the pointy-eared bastard, I will not _call_ him a pointy-eared bastard. I'm sure his parents are quite logically married'.

It's not near as satisfying as actually punching him, but he is Captain Pike's favorite and Pike just might take it personal.

She settles for another verbal right cross. "Let's examine my motives, shall we, Commander? If, as you believe, I refused Cadet Uhura a position in this program because you're sleeping with her, why? What could I possibly gain other than committing career suicide?" Leaning against her desk, she crosses her arms over her chest. "Or is that it? I can't touch you, so I go after your _girlfriend_?"

Her voice rises on the end and she cuts off the comment, clearing her throat before trying again, "For the record, Commander Spock, that never entered my mind. I wouldn't insult any officer in such fashion much less yourself and the cadet. You're both adults and God knows, you two are _Responsible_, so there's no chance in hell this started while there was any conflict with the regs, therefore it's none of my business." And it wasn't. Anything she's seen, suspected, or overheard, Jane's gotten damn good at forgetting. Though, it seems, she wasted her time.

Walking past him, Jane picks up the PADD containing her lesson notes and faces him down again. "I am more than a little offended that you would think I would sabotage someone's career because I don't like who she keeps company with. Fuck, Spock, I know I can be a real bitch, but even I'm not _that_ bad."

He frowns slightly. She's struck gold. "Which is precisely what you thought I was." Jane laughs, a hard and angry edge on the sound. "Of course you did."

Spock's frown deepens. It's not anger or frustration. If anything, he seems confused. Jane's not sure what to do with confusion. "I had not con--" he breaks off. "Commander, I would never make such accusations."

"No, but you're doing a hell of a job at insinuation. Please, Spock, give me _some_ credit. The dumb blonde stereotype went out with the third world war." Jane pushes from her desk and brushes by him on her way to the door. "My decision is final and," she holds up a hand, stopping his protest, "you can relax, this little visit will remain between us."

He relaxes at that, tension in his form easing minutely. "Thank you. I do wish to make it clear that she did not ask--"

"Of course not." She almost feels sympathetic as she adds, "I know the cadet would have your head if she found out about this." That said, she nods briskly and leaves the room.

Only to stop dead in her tracks.

"Commander Kirk," Captain Pike says, looking anything but impressed. "A word with you please?"

Fuck.

-

The afternoon sun is bright, but offers little protection against the wind off the bay. It offers even less against the captain's ire. Jane tugs her uniform jacket closer about her body and looks at Pike. He's watching a group of cadets laughing together as they cross the campus. His attention is on them, but she doesn't believe for a second that she's off the hook.

All she has to do is wait.

She doesn't have to wait long.

"You know, Commander, I don't know what it is with you and Spock, I really don't, but this has to stop now." He's angry, frustrated, and Jane's never felt more ridiculous as he rounds on her. "Did you hear yourselves in there? Two officers arguing like children!"

She bites her lip and looks away from him. "With respect, Captain, my issues with Commander Spock are private."

"The hell they are, Jane! The whole damn campus knows about it!"

Jane thinks about arguing that there was no one else in the corridor, but doesn't. No one but Christopher Pike heard them _today_. She can't say the same for every other time she and Spock have gone at it. She cringes and rubs her forehead. "Sir -- "

"Frankly, if you two were anyone else, I'd say just fuck it out of your systems and be done with it," Pike sighs, "but you aren't and it's not going to be that easy."

Even leaving aside the part where she's sure Uhura would _kill_ her, Jane has to admit he's right. Spock's not exactly hard on the eyes, to be sure, but it's never been about sex with them. He's also right about that part. It just couldn't be that easy.

"I honestly can't explain it myself, sir," she finally says. "No matter what the situation we always come down on different sides of it. Part of me thinks we just enjoy hating each other."

That makes Pike laugh. "It's not going to be that easy either, Jane. You two are some of the finest officers I've ever had the pleasure of knowing." His expression sobers and he fixes intent eyes on her. "I intend on having you both on my ship. That means a five year hitch on the same ship and since I refuse to allow screaming matches on my ship, you two need to get over it. God knows, I'm not going to play diplomat every time one of you opens your mouth."

He starts moving again, not giving her a chance to argue or point out that he's violating his own promise, if only in spirit, and Jane has to rush to catch up. "I'll be having a similar conversation with Spock just as soon as I can."

He looks back at her again, a determined glint in his eye. "In the meantime, I suggest you get ready. The Enterprise is due to start a shakedown cruise soon and I have just the milk run for the job."

_Fuck_...

-

It's still dark when Jane slaps Bones on the ass. "Up and at 'em, Bones," she says. "Computer, lights to full."

"The hell?" Bones groans, throwing an arm over his eyes. "Turn off the damn light, Jane, and get back in the bed."

Grinning, Jane puts her hands on her hips and appraises the sight before her. She was already in asleep when he got back, fresh off a double shift, and fell into bed. His uniform is a crumpled mess on the floor. Thank God, he's got a spare. "God, Bones, you have no idea how much I wish I could." She sits on the edge of the bed, running a hand along his bare back. "Unfortunately, Doctor, we've got a job."

He opens one eye, peering at her. "You're kidding me."

"Nope," she smiles. "We're leaving in an hour. You've got enough time to clean up, eat, and then we're on the Enterprise."

That gets his attention. "The _what_?"

"You heard me," she says, leaning over to kiss him. "Good morning, by the way."

Bones catches her off-guard when he grabs her and pulls her close for a second, deeper one. She's tempted to fall into bed with him and just enjoy the morning, but Christopher Pike's not one to be stood up and neither is his ship.

"The Enterprise?" he says, as soon as they come up for air.

"The Enterprise," she affirms. "She needs a shakedown cruise before the official launch. Pike's decided a cadet cruise is in order." She gets up. "He's pulling officers from the Academy and the Yorktown to serve as senior staff."

"And you're -- "

"Tactical." Jane says. "I'll turn the shower on, you get the coffee. Don't want you to be late for your big day. C'mon, Bones, sleep later. We want you all nice and pretty when you beam up."

He groans and pulls the sheets over his head. She walks away laughing.

It is possible she's enjoying his misery far more than she should. It's definite that she'll never, ever admit to it.

-

"Heya Janie."

Stepping into the shuttle, Jane nearly trips over her own feet at the sound of the familiar voice. "_Gary_?" she says, astonished. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Gary Mitchell grins. "Pike needed a navigator. Number One suggested me." He waggles his eyebrows at her. "Together again."

Jane purses her lips, trying not to laugh. "I'm an instructor, Mitchell," she says. "I can't be the one _getting_ the demerits."

"Oh sure, Janie, spoil all my fun," he pouts. "Not even one little practical joke? I had this awesome one all planned out -- "

"It'll keep," Jane says. "I'm in Pike's bad books as is."

"I even want to know?" Gary asks, frowning.

She shrugs. "Vulcan troubles."

Gary's heard all about her Spock issues (even Bones gets tired of her complaining) and nods. "Right."

She feels Bones come to a stop behind her, a hand bumping against her hip. It's subtle, but the light touch is warming. She glances up at him. "Bones, this is Lieutenant Commander Gary Mitchell." He's heard a few stories about Gary at this point. Just enough to know how much trouble they are together. She bites her lip and absolutely doesn't grin as the tension ramps up. "Gary, this is Doctor Leonard McCoy."

The two men nod at each other, staring each other down, and when the moment stretches out, Jane rolls her eyes and nudges them both. "Shall we get moving?" she asks. "Don't want to keep the captain waiting."

Gary laughs. "Don't want you to get grounded." He heads forward to the pilot's chair while She curls a hand around Bones' arm, tugging him back into the shuttle. "Behave," she murmurs.

"I'm behaving," Bones says in his most innocent of tones.

Settling into a seat, Jane grins. "Right, and what was _that_?"

"Me remembering," he scowls at her. "You know what happens when you and Mitchell get within a light year of each other."

She presses her lips together, trying to suppress her smirk. "Bones, Nogura's hair eventually did grow back." Most of it. "And that ambassador -- "

"You damn near started a war, Jane," Bones says.

"It was all perfectly innocent!" she protests, laughing now. "She understood!" Patting his arm, she leans closer. "Relax, Bones, I promise to be on my best behavior for the duration of this mission."

She gets them both strapped in, ignoring Bones' slapping protests, and sits back.

He's jealous. She hides her grin. He's _jealous_.

-

She hears it when McCoy slips, a soft rasp of loose shale beneath his boot, even before he knows he's slipping. Lighting fast, Jane's hand shoots out and catches hold of his pack to yank him upright again.

"Careful, Doctor," she says, fighting a grin. "I hear the locals are none too friendly. You get left behind, I don't fancy your chances."

Bones scowls at her. "Survival training on _Vulcan_? Rampaging bears and poison-clawed cats," he wheezes and stops, digging in his pack for the tri-ox. "Who's damn fool idea was that anyway?"

_"So, the mission is this, you and Commander Spock will be leading the cadets on their survival training through the Forge." Pike hands Jane her gear. "You'll be in command. Try not to kill your exec, Commander, Starfleet tends to court martial people for that." _

Jane's smile becomes a grimace, the memory of Chris Pike's smug grin chasing her amusement down the drain.

"Starfleet's," she says. "We trade off between the Forge and the Outback. Every year. It's tradition, Bones." She decides against pointing out that this year is supposed to be the Outback, and that there _is_ a group of cadets suffering beneath the hot Australian sun even as they suffered beneath Vulcan's.

"Yeah, and tradition says my ass should be dodging kangaroos, not watching for sehlats," Bones says. He jabs another cadet with a hypo of tri-ox. "Sit down a minute, kid," he warns. "Give it a chance to do some good."

Despite herself, Jane looks for Spock. Unsurprisingly, her 'XO' is watching them with just a hint of disapproval in his gaze. A familiar one. Well, nice to know Pike's 'team building' exercise is working just like gangbusters.

Red alert. All hands to battle stations. Hastily, she schools her features into a confident grin and snaps a jaunty salute. Whatever Spock thinks of her relationship with Bones is no matter to her, but she just can't help jerking his chain. All things being equal and all that.

He looks away, watching the other cadets struggle up the incline before looking at his tricorder. Sehlats or le-maytas. Jane's not sure which one he's looking for, hopes neither shows up, but passes a reassuring hand over her phaser.

"I'll tell you the rest later, Bones," she says, looking back at him.

He's still scowling, but breathing easier. God bless the woman who invented tri-ox. "When?"

Jane presents her neck for her shot and McCoy obliges, sending a dose of relief rushing to her lungs. "When you're not in charge of the tri-ox," she says with a genuine grin. "I'm pretty sure you're going to kill me otherwise."

Bones looks suspicious. "I think I want to now. What the hell did you do _this time_, Jane?"

"Believe it or not?" Jane shrugs. "I went by the book. Just goes to show what _that_ does for you." She slips an arm through his, drawing him a little further away from the cadets. "Had a run in with Spock over his protege. It got a little nasty. Pike overheard."

"Let me guess, by a little nasty, you're talking knockdown, drag out?" Bones asks.

"A little," Jane says. "Best discuss that part later." She tips her head in Spock's direction. "Let's not forget about the ears, shall we?" Her smile wavers as she adds, "I'd rather not have a reenactment in front of half the graduating class."

That gets a concerned look. "Am I gonna end up wanting to belt that hobgoblin?" Bones asks, fingers brushing hers. Their posture, Jane realizes, has shifted from playful comrades to something considerably more intimate and she steps back. "I've got a hypo with his name on it if the situation calls for it."

Jane looks around them, sighing at the subtle looks they're getting. "If we weren't in public, Leonard McCoy, I'd jump those bones of yours."

"Good thing we are," he says, trying, and failing, to sound grouchy. "Sand and sex never mix."

She rolls her eyes, but doesn't try to stop her laughter. Trust Bones to suck the romance out of anything. Slapping his ass, she saunters back toward the others. "C'mon, Doctor, day's young and you haven't suffered nearly enough yet."

Passing Spock on her way by, she looks sideways at him. "Not one word about it, are we clear?"

He inclines his head. "Quite."

-

The thing about Vulcan is that, for a planet full of pacifists, the planet is _mean_. Jane hears the le-mayta's scream seconds before Uhura's hand closes around her arm.

"Commander," she says, "we can't find Sulu."

Jane looks at Spock. "I thought there weren't supposed to be any le-mayta on this path?"

"There are not," he replies. "However, they are -- "

"Difficult to control." Jane swears. "Fuck, this is supposed to be _safe_." Spinning on her boot heel, she fumbles for her communicator and her phaser. There's a knot in her stomach growing larger by the second and, damn it, she _likes_ Sulu. The kid's been kicking her ass around the gym since his first week.

"Kirk to Sulu, cadet, tell me something good!"

"The route is the safest possible," Spock continues, following her. "This is not an area one would expect to find le-mayta, however there are no guarantees on the matter. They regularly slip past expected wards and all attempts at monitoring."

"Great," Jane says. She slips, skids on the rocks, but rights herself before looking at Spock. "Tricorder?"

He stops at her side, scanning. "I am showing two human lifesigns." He nods a bearing. Jane ignores it, crowding closer so she can get a look at the scans herself. "There is one other lifesign bearing down upon them. It is not humanoid. I would wager it is the le-mayta, though I have spent little time studying their physiology."

"Funny," Jane says grimly, throwing herself into a run again. She reminds herself that Sulu's smart. Fast. No overgrown alien housecat is going to turn him into dinner. Especially not if he's packing his favorite shiny toys. "I would have so pegged you for a cat person."

"You are making a joke, Commander," Spock states, keeping pace with her easily. The bastard isn't even breathing hard, while Jane's lungs are burning. She'd die of happiness if Bones and his hypo were to appear before her in the next ten seconds.

"I try," she wheezes.

"You should stop," Spock warns. "You will be in no shape to aid Cadet Sulu."

Jane pins him with a glare. "_My_ people, _my_ responsibility." She shoves the communicator back into her belt, trying the good old-fashioned routine. "SULU!"

"Here!" his voice calls back, thin and high on the hot wind.

They close the distance, rounding a large boulder, and skidding to a stop to find Sulu bending over a young woman. "She slipped," he explains. "I think her leg is broken." He's helping her up, revealing the split he's fashioned together for her. "What's wrong?"

Jane doesn't get the chance to explain. She sees a flash of movement out of the corner of her eye and lunges as Spock shouts. Reaching Sulu and the other cadet a split second before the cat, she knocks them backward. Claws tear through skin of her shoulder, momentum scraping them across her back as she falls to the ground, covering both cadets .

Her back is on fire with agony as she fumbles for her phaser.

"Do not move!" Spock calls and she hears him fire. The whine of the phaser is still fading when the cat thuds to the ground behind her.

"Commander?" Sulu looks up. "What was that?"

"One of the locals," Jane says, easing off him. "Come to see if Earthmen are as tasty as it's heard." She looks at the other cadet. One of her students. "Rand, right?"

The girl nods, lips thin with pain. "Thanks, si--Commander."

Jane grins. "You'll get used to it sooner or later, Cadet." She leans over Rand's leg, fingers probing the splint with interest. "Sulu, since you're our hero of the day, you get to go fetch McCoy. I'm going to take a guess that our dramatic fall didn't help Ms. Rand's leg much."

"Indeed," Spock says, kneeling beside her. "You will also inform him that we require his full kit." He strips off his tunic and presses it to Jane's back. She doesn't scream, but she definitely yelps. "The commander has been injured by the le-mayta."

"Just a scratch," Jane says, all too aware of the rattled look on Cadet Rand's face. "Nothing a few bandaids and a lollipop won't cure." She knows just the one too. McCoy flavored.

Spock starts to argue, but she shakes her head slightly. "Very well," he says, "however, we do not wish it to become irritated."

"No, true, we don't," she agrees. "It'd be best if you left then, Commander. God knows, nothing irritates me more than you."

Rand laughs. "Commander, do you really hate him that much?"

Jane's always liked Janice. As intelligent and beautiful as she is forthright and blunt, there's no beating around the bush with Rand. "No," she says, grinning. "For the record, Commander Spock is actually not that bad. We just like fighting." She shoots a quick look Spock's way, half-afraid of what his comment will be.

"Indeed," he says, surprising her, "Commander Kirk has a most unorthodox method of approaching problems. It can be quite stimulating."

Jane looks at him. Now she knows she's seriously injured. Spock's being _nice_. She looks at Rand and then at Spock. He's watching her and she groans. Right. _Le-mayta_. "Poison tipped claws," she murmurs just loud enough for him to hear.

Spock's head moves in a slight nod, answering the implied question. "I would suggest, Commander," he says, softly, "that you do not move too quickly. It will keep the toxin from spreading through your system."

"Commander?" Rand asks.

"Nothing you need to concern yourself with, Cadet," Jane says, sitting as straight as possible. Spock might need to know just how bad this is, but Rand doesn't. "Just a few scratches from a cat. Nothing I haven't had before."

Spock turns, looking. "They are coming." It's a few seconds before she can hear shouting, a few more before she can hear the sound of their feet. She bites her lip in apprehension, not wanting to see the look on Bones' face when he sees her.

It's not pretty.

"Well, now, this is a fine mess," he snaps. "Cadet, what the hell did you do?"

"Slipped, sir," Rand replies, grinning. "Just didn't have Commander Kirk to catch me."

"Next time, just yell," Jane says, averting her eyes from McCoy and his accusing stare. "I'll catch you anytime you want."

"The hell you will," Bones snaps, dropping to his knees beside her. "Do I even want to know how _this_ happened?" He brandishes a hypo at her. "And if you turn this into a sex joke, so help me, Commander -- "

Jane pouts at him. "Oh sure, go and kill _all_ my fun."

"Do more than that if you don't behave," he growls, and fuck, that's hot. Jane glares at him as subtly as possible, because, _really_, they have rules about this. Also, they're on Vulcan. _Vulcan_. It's not exactly having sex in your parents' house, but it's pretty damn close to it.

"I'll behave just as soon as you check out the cadet," she says.

"Compound fracture," he says, running his tricorder over her before producing one of his many hypos and pressing it against her neck. "The cadet's survival training's over for the time being." He waves Sulu and one of the medical cadets over with him. "We're going to be turning back, of course."

"Of course," Jane agrees, her posture slumping. She rubs at her forehead, realizing it's slick with sweat. "We'll fall back to the emergency beam out point. The Vulcans can take myself and the cadet to the nearest hospital. Spock will then take the rest of the cadets back into the Forge and complete training."

Sulu and the cadet, Chapel, under Bones' watchful eye, slide Rand onto a litter, strapping her down. "Don't jostle her," he warns, when someone's hand slips. Sulu ducks quickly, catching her before she can dip. "Good man," he says, then reaches between them patting her arm. "Now don't you feel shy about telling these two what to do."

"Why would she?" Sulu says, grinning. "She's never been before."

Rand snorts. "And yet he never listens." She grabs Bones' hand before Sulu and the medical cadet can move away. "She's going to be okay, right?"

Bones looks down at Jane. "Oh, she'll be fine, cadet. I'll see to that." He waits until they're out of earshot - human ears at least - before adding, "If only so I can kill her myself."

As soon as he speaks, Jane knows they're alone and she can let the facade drop. She slumps to the dirt, groaning in pain when her shoulder connects with sand. "Oh _god_, that hurts."

"Yeah, well, quit moving around and it'll hurt less," Bones scolds. "What the fuck did that thing do to you?"

She shifts her head, trying to lie still as she listens to the mechanical whir of the tricorder. It's kind of soothing. Almost enough to make her forget the deadly poison burning through her veins. "Le-mayta, remember," she says. "Poison-tipped claws."

That sets Bones off and she listens, a little amused, to the stream of invectives. The longer he works on her, the more creative they get and the harder it is not to laugh.

Biting her lip, Jane looks away, "Spock?"

He's at her side in an instant. "Yes, Commander?"

"The toxin," she tries to sit up, but Bones' hand stops her. Frowning, she focuses on Spock. "I need to know what I'm facing," she says, quiet and calm. "The toxin -- Will it totally incapacitate me?"

He hesitates and looks over her head at Bones. She doesn't follow his gaze, doesn't want to see the exchange, just waits. "It is unlikely that it will be fatal. I am sure Dr. McCoy has administered the appropriate dosage of anti-venom. You will, however, require medical attention immediately beyond that of what Dr. McCoy's medical kit can provide."

"Damn," Jane sighs. "So, definitely an emergency medivac for me then."

"Indeed," he affirms.

Mission failed. Curling her fingers into the Vulcan sand, she looks at the gathering night. "All right," she says. "Well, in that case, we're going to need to make a few plans."

Spock nods. "I had expected you would wish to."

"Make your plans in a minute," Bones says. "What the hell _that_?"

Jane pushes herself up following his line of sight and promptly swears. "Fuck, sand fire storm." She starts to reach for Spock, but he's already moving, ordering cadets into whatever shelter that can be found. She nods and lets herself relax.

A hypo hisses into her skin, easing the pain, and she grabs for Bones. Ignoring the stab of pain in her shoulder the movement elicits. "That better not be a sedative, Doctor."

He scowls. "I should be so lucky. No, _Commander_, it's just a painkiller. Should keep you comfortable til that storm blows over." Bones watches Spock move. "Is it just me or is he starting to panic?"

"Well -- "

"Oh, right," Bones says, "Vulcans do not panic. They merely express a subtle form of agitation in appropriate response to the situation at hand. That sound better?"

"No, he's panicking," Jane says, trying not to laugh at his exasperated impression. "It's a sand _fire_ storm, Bones. On Vulcan, the sandstorms come with lightning." And can last for days. "Which is not good. We stay out in this, we won't last very long." Despite the shot, pain lances through her shoulder, fire running down her back, and she can still feel the claws tearing through her skin. That's even worse. Another mission under her command going completely to hell. Just _perfect_.

"Not good?" Bones scowls. "Sounds like a fucking disaster to me." He looks at her. "Where is this cover we need to be finding?"

"This part of the Forge is covered with caves," Jane says. "Spock'll get everyone holed up. We prepared for this." She waves a hand at the gear the cadets have been carrying among them. "It's not as if we didn't know about the storms."

"And we're right back to square one," Bones says. "Vulcan is a damn stupid place to be doing survival training." He jabs another hypo into her arm, muttering "Coagulant," before she can complain. "They couldn't find us a safer spot for Pike's little team building exercise?"

Jane bites her lip and looks away.

"Aw hell, this _is_ the safest spot, isn't it?" he groans.

"Well," Jane sighs. "I didn't want to say it, Bones, but this is the course Vulcan children follow when they perform Kahs-wan." She crosses her fingers, hoping that Bones doesn't know how old the kids are.

"Aren't -- " Bones scowls. "These people send their _kids_ out here?"

Jane shrugs. "They're not kids. They're Vulcans." Still, the thought of sending David out here alone is enough send a chill down her spine. She looks at Spock, watching his return, trying to picture him as a little boy out here alone. "Was it -- " she bites off the question. It's none of her business and she's the last person who should be asking Spock _anything_ about his childhood. About anything really. "Everyone dealt with?"

He nods. "Everyone but you and the doctor. The others have taken shelter in the caves." He crouches beside her. "Doctor, I know it is not optimal, but is it safe to move the commander?"

"Safe? No," Bones frowns, producing yet another hypo, "_but_ it's a hell of a lot safer than that storm looks."

"If we move," Jane says, aware her words are slurring, "you promise to stop jabbing me with those?" She blinks, shakes her head, and looks at him. "_Bones_."

He smiles, innocent as a newborn, and shrugs. "Didn't have much choice, Jane. This is going to hurt like hell. Better you sleep through it."

She tries to be angry. This is her operation, her responsibility, the cadets -- she passes out.


	3. By Our Wills - pt 3

Jane wakes to a pounding headache and the murmur of quiet voices. She tries to move, to look for Bones and Spock, but her body won't co-operate. Her limbs are stiff and jerky, sweat soaking through her uniform, and it's all so not good. "Bones?" she rasps.

"Here," Bones says, bending over her, tricorder in hand. "I'd ask how you're feeling, but -- "

he tries to snort. "I feel like hell." She looks at Spock. "The cadets?"

"Communication is impossible at this level," Spock says. "Elements within the rock prevent signals from transmitting. We cannot make contact until the storm passes. However, I can assure you that the junior cadets have been divided up under the command of a senior cadet. They are quite safe."

Jane closes her eyes, nodding slowly. The action takes effort. "Any sign of the storm letting up?"

"No," Spock says. "Not yet."

"And me?" she turns to look at Bones. She can see the worry in his eyes. It's tempting to reach out, run a soothing hand over his brow, but she can't. Not with Spock sitting on a rock at her other side. "Report, Doctor."

He frowns. "Well, you're not going to die, the anti-venom I gave you did the trick, but you've lost a lot of blood. That shoulder needs a dermal regenerator. We need to get you to a hospital."

Jane grins, it's not meant to be happy. "Well, things are just turning up roses here, aren't they?"

"We were expected to check in this evening," Spock reminds her. "When we fail to, they will begin a search. We need only wait, Commander."

"Wait," Jane says. "Yeah. Wait. They can't get in and we can't get out. Not until the storms dissipate. Can't call for help. Can't get beamed out even if we could call out." She balls a fist, thumping it against the sand. "Fuck."

"Indeed," Spock agrees. He looks at her. "Commander, permission to speak freely?"

Jane shoots a look at Bones then frowns at Spock. "Something on your mind, Mr. Spock?"

"A great deal," he says. "However, the majority of it is unrelated to the matter at hand."

Jane blinks, taking a long look at him. "Why, Commander Spock, was that a _joke_?"

"It was not," he says, stiff. "It was a statement of fact. You asked an imprecise question, therefore you received the appropriate response."

"Bones, I'm medicated, so I might be a little fuzzy, but did the Vulcan just make a joke?"

"Well, you'd know better than I, Commander, but I think he did," Bones agrees. "Wasn't a half bad one either."

Jane nods, "I thought as much." She eases herself up, smiling a thanks at Bones as he helps her. She lets herself lean against his familiar bulk, trusting him to keep an eye on her shoulder. "My apologies, Commander Spock, I couldn't resist." She waves a hand. "What is it that you wanted to say?"

He moves closer. "I am uncertain as to whether or not you are aware that I too spoke with Captain Pike."

"Got chewed out too, huh?" Jane says. It's not quite commiseration, but it's close.

"I believe that is the appropriate euphemism," Spock nods. "He made a number of things clear."

"Oh fuck, he didn't give you the Jane Kirk Sob Story, did he?" Jane cringes. "Well, if he did, ignore it. I'm just an asshole, Spock. Always have been. Arrogant as hell, smart enough to back it up most of the time, and the rest -- " she shrugs. "That'd be the time I'm a true asshole."

"You are the youngest Academy admission in Starfleet history," Spock states. "That does not suggest you are, as you say, an 'asshole'. Your evaluations state to the contrary. They state you to be bright, personable, and a promising candidate for command."

"Evaluations say a lot," Jane says. "Not much of it bears much resemblance to the truth. Most of mine call me a natural born leader." She smiles. "You know what the problem with natural born leaders is, Mr. Spock?"

He raises a brow. "I am certain you are about to tell me."

"I am," she says. "The problem with being a natural born leader is that you're a bitch to teach. You think you already know everything. Worse if you're right." She breathes in. "Nyota Uhura is a natural born leader. She's brilliant. Just like I was." She hesitates, reluctant to bring _it_ up, but there's no real way around it. "You want to know why the Kobayashi Maru is a failure?"

"You stated that you believed the test to be a 'cheat' in itself," Spock answers.

"Do you understand why?" Jane asks.

"You believed because the scenario refuses to offer any quarter, never allowing 'fair' odds, it is not an accurate reflection of reality," Spock says. It sounds as if he's repeating, word for word, her post-test assessment. Knowing Spock, he probably is.

"It isn't," Jane says. "That's the problem. I didn't learn to face failure in that test. It wasn't a test at all. It was a game." She closes her eyes, remembering. "I didn't learn what failure meant until much later. Uhura, Sulu, all the others. They can take the Kobayashi Maru a thousand times, it won't teach them anything like they'll learn the first time they watch a friend die. Until the time that, maybe, they die themselves. You can't test for that, Spock. No matter how good your programming abilities are, you can't test for that."

Bones raises a hand, resting it against the back of her neck, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into her skin.

Jane breathes deep, drawing on the strength the subtle touch provides, "We're never going to be friends, Mr. Spock, but understand this much. When I do a job, I do it, there's no games and no agendas. Just the job."

She closes her eyes. She's exhausted. "I'm tired."

"Commander."

Reluctantly, Jane opens her eyes again. "Yes, Mr. Spock?"

He looks uncomfortable. At least, she thinks he does. Reading Mr. Spock's moods isn't something Jane's got a manual for. "Your argument is not without merit."

She grins. "Well, now, Mr. Spock, I think I just witnessed a miracle."

-

She's supported between Bones and Spock both when they beam back aboard. The look _that_ gets her from Number One is almost worth the damn cat cutting her back to ribbons, even if, for her, Number One's idea of astonishment is a slight flick of the eyebrows.

"Commander," Jane says, grinning. "Funny thing happened on the way to the training mission."

"So it would seem," Number One says, a slight smirk suggested by her lips. "I have a feeling, Commander Kirk, your mission report is going to be interesting reading."

"Nah, I think it'll be a little dull actually," Jane says. "The cat's still alive, the cadet's leg is already on its way to being regenerated, and I didn't even almost die." She tries to look at her shoulder, feeling the pull of the bandage against skin. "It's not even bleeding anymore."

Bones snorts. "The hell it's not," he says, jabbing her with a hypo before bringing up his tricorder. At this point, she's pretty sure that he's doing it just to piss her off. "She might not be dead, but it's not for lack of trying, I promise. Still could she's not careful." He looks at Number One. "Commander, as much as I'm sure she's enjoyin' the chat, I'd like to get my patient to Sickbay now."

"By all means," she steps back, waving them forward off the transporter pad. There's a waiting gurney that Spock and Bones lower her onto. Jane rolls obediently onto her side, letting Bones poke and prod at the bandages until he's satisfied.

"Has the captain been briefed?" she asks, looking past Bones to the XO.

Number One nods. "He's on the comm with Vulcan officials at the moment." She grimaces. "They are considerably displeased. Commander, if I didn't know better, I'd think that you _try_ these things and, honestly, I still have my doubts that you aren't."

"We're going to have this conversation on the move if you don't mind," Bones interrupts, his tone ominous.

"Bones -- " Jane looks up, her shoulder still numb from the hypo. "What?"

"Just feel better if I had you under a dermal regenerator," he says. He's lying, of course, but Jane's willing to give him this one. If only because the look on his face scares her a little. "Okay?"

She nods and looks at Number One. "I never argue with my doctor." Well, not _much_.

"Wise move," Number One says, picking up the pace.

"Just how much trouble could the attack cause?" This she asks of Spock, looking up at him. It's dizzying, watching him from upside down and on the move, and a snide voice whispers that, from this angle, the ears _work_.

"It is not a pleasant situation," he says. "A Starfleet officer was attacked and nearly killed. It does not reflect well upon us."

"Well it's hardly their fault," Jane protests. "No one told the cat it couldn't be there."

"The population is monitored," Spock says. "The animal somehow slipped past that monitoring. Questions must, therefore, be asked." He looks over her head at Bones. "Doctor -- "

"Yeah, yeah, I know, shut up, Jane. We need to get you to Sickbay." She opens her mouth and gets a stern look in response. "I _will_ sedate you."

There's a soft sound from behind them and, belatedly, Jane realizes it's the sound of Number One laughing.

"I can see, Doctor, why Phil likes you." They reach a junction in the corridor and Number One takes the turn, heading for the turbolift, back to the bridge to make report. Jane starts to relax, but tenses again when Number One looks back. Her smile now is genuine. "I look forward to that report, Commander."

Then she's gone and Jane is looking at Spock and Bones. "I think she likes me."

"I think she's up to something," Bones says.

"Well, _yeah_," Jane says on a laugh, "but she still likes me."

He rolls his eyes. "Sickbay, now."

"Yes, Doctor," Jane says. She doesn't even pout this time. "Spock, the cadets?" She looks back at the transporter room. "I wanted to be there when they beamed back -- " Debrief them on the mission before the captain had a chance to.

Spock nods. "I will see to them, Commander."

Bones watches him go. "Was it just me, or was that almost cordial?"

"It wasn't just you," Jane says, though she's almost afraid to admit it. "I think that was us playing nice."

"So, you two -- " he tips his head.

"We're not friends, Bones," Jane says. "We're a long way from being friends, but...I think we understand each other."

And for now, that's going to have to do.

-

Jane's pulling her uniform shirt on when Boyce approaches. She's stiff, still bruised beneath the surface, but she's free to leave Sickbay. At least, she will be once a doctor clears her, and she knows that's not going to happen easy.

"Well, you're looking better, Commander," he says, a jovial smile on his face.

Uh oh. Boyce always smiles like that when he's ready for a fight. "Feeling it." She smiles over his shoulder at Bones. "Dr. McCoy does good work."

"Oh, yes," Boyce says, "he does at that. He also tells me that you plan on keeping those scars."

"Yes, I do." Jane rolls her shoulders, letting the shirt settle on her body. "Think they make me look dashing." Boyce doesn't believe her, of course, but Jane knows better than to expect otherwise. He's been Pike's CMO for years. Service like that means a man develops highly tuned bullshit sensors.

"Commander, if you mean to tell me that you're keeping those scars for cosmetic reasons -- "

She smiles. "No joy, huh?"

He shakes his head. "Not even a little."

Jane smiles. "Fine, I could use the reminder."

"Your idea of a reminder of your visit to Vulcan is severe scarring on your back?" Boyce frowns. "Commander, don't most people just buy a snowglobe?"

Jane laughs. "Vulcan has no snow, Phil."

"Of course not," he says, breaking into a grin. "They do, however, have some very lovely snowglobes. Import them from Earth then, quite logically, sell them back to Humans at exorbitant prices."

"As you would," Bones says. The look on his face says Spock's going to hear it later. The thought's enough to make her laugh, but Jane's barely back in working order. She's not about to fuck it up now by pissing off her doctor.

Not even if Bones is hotter than the Forge when he's pissed.

"But not Commander Kirk," Boyce says, neatly twisting the conversation around on her again. Damn the man. "Mind telling me why that is, Jane?"

Jane looks at Bones and it's easy to remember hot sand and sharp claws. "Well, Doctor, that's something I'd prefer to keep to myself." She smiles at Boyce. "Let's just say it's a lesson everyone needed to learn."

-

"Everyone?" Bones says, following her out of Sickbay. "What was _that_ about?"

She rolls her shoulders, wiggling a little. "My shoulder itches," she complains. "Is that normal?" She tries to scratch, twisting to reach, but can't quite. "Oh, that's gonna drive me crazy."

"It'll subside in a while," Bones says.

"Are you sure?" she pouts. "It _really_ itches." Jane can't help fluttering her eyelashes at him. "Scratch it for me?"

He scowls at her. "Answer the question, Jane."

Sighing, Jane nods. "Fine, but I'd rather do this somewhere a little less public. The crew doesn't need to be privy to my private conversations." She rounds the corner and heads for the turbolift. "And my shoulder still itches," she protests, stepping inside.

Bones is hot on her heels. "Answer my question," he says, "and maybe I'll do something about that."

"Promises, promises," she says as the door slides shut. As soon as it does, Jane lays a hand on the console. "Computer, halt turbolift," she orders, adding her command code on the end. It should probably be embarrassing the way it thrills her, but Jane's never been big on shame. Instead, she turns back to Bones. "The lesson was as much for me as it was for anyone else." For him. "I needed to know if I still had it. If the instinct is still there."

Bones snorts and gives her a look. It's a cross between exasperation and amusement. She gets it a lot. "And that'd be, what? Playing a damn fool and trying to get yourself killed?"

"How far I'd go to protect my crew," Jane says, her voice soft, serious. "I need know that, Bones. If I'm going to do this, if I'm going to go back into space, then I can't do it halfway. I want my own ship. I want my own crew and, for me, that means knowing if I'm willing to go all the way for them. If I can't, then I have no right asking them to do it for me. I have no right to command. I wouldn't be fit." She looks at him. "I needed to know and you needed to see."

He frowns. "See what? Already knew you were out of your damn mind. Didn't need any reminders."

She smiles, shaking her head. "_Bones_..." Jane looks at him and sees him staring down at her, hurt and bleeding, with barely hidden fear in his eyes. "Whatever _this_ is," she says, gesturing between them, "you need to understand what it could mean. My job means -- "

"Poison-clawed cats and damn stupid risks," Bones finishes for her, his voice tight with anger. "You think I don't know that? You think I don't spend my nights running through the thousand and one ways you can kill yourself out here? Goddamn it, Jane, I'm not -- " he growls, frustrated, and then he's _there_, his body pressing her into the turbolift wall and her face is in his hands. He looks at her for a long moment, his thumb tracing her lower lip. "You have any damn idea what that does to me?"

She smiles, sadly. She knows. She remembers how this goes. "Yes," she says, nodding. "I think I do." Jane closes her eyes, resting her forehead against his. "I wouldn't blame you, Bones, if you can't handle it. It's bad enough being left behind, not knowing what's happening, it's a whole new ballgame when you're here and you can see it."

When he's the one stitching the mess back together. She pictures that for a moment, her heart clenching in pain. "I don't want to do that to you, Bones."

"Good thing you're not the one making the call then, Commander," he mutters. "I'm not Carol, Jane."

He pulls back, looking at her, and Jane's caught by the look in his eyes. Her breath catches, holds tight in her chest, and she _knows_. This is it. He's it. All she wants in the world boiled down to three things. Her son, her ship, and her Bones. That's it. All she wants. All she needs.

"Know that's what you're thinking," he says, his thumbs stroking her cheeks. "I'm not going anywhere." He takes a deep breath. "Not going to lie to you -- the idea of you on my table scares the fucking hell out of me." She flashes back on Vulcan, the fiery pain in her shoulder and the absolute terror in his eyes. "The idea of you _dying_ on my table -- " he presses his forehead against hers again " -- not gonna let myself go there."

"Believe me," Jane laughs, "I'm not complaining about tabling that one, Doctor." She closes her eyes, letting herself luxuriate in the feeling of him surrounding her. "God, Bones -- "

"Yeah," he mutters, his accent rasping over the word, making her shiver. "I know." He rests his hands on her hips, pulling her flush against him. "Scared or not, Jane, not getting rid of me that easy." He pauses, then adds, "You even _think_ of pulling a stunt like that again, and I swear, Jane, I'll -- "

She cuts off the threat with a kiss. Bones' reaction is immediate. He pushes against her, already half-hard, and Jane clambers closer still. She rolls her hips, sliding against him, and it's a little ridiculous that they're doing this in the _turbolift_ but they are. She can't wait, can't take her hands off him long enough to even think about waiting, not with Bones. Not with the way he's rocking against her, grinding himself into her, hands sliding into her pants.

She's not ready for the moment when his fingers stroke over her clit. Her body jerks and her fingers dig into his shoulders. She whines his name and presses her face against his neck. His skin is salty with sweat beneath her mouth and he's muttering into her shoulder. She can't pick most of it out, but she doesn't have to. All she has to hear is, "..._mine_"

The counselors would probably analyze it to death, but it's _Bones_. Jane lets her head fall back, thumping against the lift wall, as she rides his hand and a thick wave of pleasure.

"You're beautiful," Bones murmurs, lips brushing her throat. "Do you know that?"

Jane laughs, slow and lazy, opening her eyes. "What I know, Bones, is that you are a treasure." She tugs him back so she can kiss him. It's gentle and affectionate. "And the first chance I get, I'm going to devote as much time as humanly possible to proving it."

She rubs a hand over his cock, stroking it slowly through his pants. "Sound like a good idea to you, Doctor?"

The best answer he can manage is another moan.

Jane goes to her knees. She's going to enjoy this.

-

When the turbolift doors slide open, there are two engineers waiting with maintenance gear in hand. Jane's reaction is immediate. She steps forward with a raised eyebrow. "Something I can help you gentlemen with?"

"Uh, no, Commander," one of them finally stammers. "Just -- Commander Barry said this turbolift was offline."

"It was," Jane says. "It's working now." She sweeps by them with Bones in tow. "Excuse us."

"Jane -- " Bones says in a mutter.

"Just keep moving, Bones," she says, equally soft. "They don't know and they can't ask." She grins at him. "It's all in the attitude."

"There's no way they don't know!" he protests.

"They _suspect_," Jane says, smiling. "They'll joke, they might laugh, but they won't dare say a single thing about it." She grins. "Trust me, Bones, I did the same thing when I was a cadet."

Bones opens his mouth to answer, but it's lost in the flare of a red alert and Pike's voice, calm and even, summoning senior officers to posts.

"Gotta go, honey," Jane says, kissing him quickly. She spins around, heading back for the turbolift, when his hand on hers stops her cold. "What?"

"See you later?" Bones asks. "_After_ work."

Jane laughs. "Scouts honor." With a jaunty flick of her fingers, she runs to the lift.

-

The bridge is a blur of activity when Jane finally makes it. Number One and Pike are at the communications station. He looks up on her entrance. "We're receiving a distress call, priority one."

Bypassing tactical, Jane joins them. Number One holds out the PADD. "You'll want to see this." She looks sympathetic as she adds, "Commander, the distress call we're receiving is coming from the USS Potemkin."

"My mother's ship?" Jane takes it, giving it a quick glance, looking for all the usual particulars. Ship reporting itself under fire from an unknown Klingon vessel that ignores all attempted hails. Shields holding, but not for long. She skims the rest, barely seeing it, wishing like hell she wasn't seeing any at all.

She and her mother haven't been close for years. Time, work, and distance making it almost impossible. It's no excuse and Jane knows it, but too much baggage and pain mean she's never wanted to try.

Not until now.

"We're en route, fastest possible warp," Pike says, "but, Commander, there's a good chance we won't make it."

"We will," Jane says. Her confidence isn't fake. She means it. If there's here's one thing the Kirk women are unquestionably good at -- "I got my survival skills from my mother." She looks back at the PADD then turns to head for tactical. "Mr. Spock, if I asked the odds of the same mysterious Klingon ship attacking ships commanded by the parents of one individual Starfleet officer, the number I'd get would be pretty damn astronomical, wouldn't it?"

She looks up, waiting for Spock's answer. "I'm not looking for an exact figure, Commander," she adds, a slight grin on her face. "Just ballpark it."

He raises a brow at the reference, but nods anyway. "You would be correct. The number would be extraordinarily high."

"Right, I thought as much," Jane says. She looks down at tactical, calling up the sensors she's going to need. "And yet, that's exactly what's happening. Anyone else find that just a hair unusual?"

"Unlikely would be a more accurate term," Number One says. "It's been twenty years."

"I know," Jane says. "That's the part that's bothering me. After it destroyed the Kelvin, the Klingon vessel vanished. No warp signature, no suggestions of a cloak, it just _vanished_ with absolutely no trace. Now, I'm no scientist, but I am sure of one thing. Nothing in this universe vanishes without any kind of trace."

She starts to speak, an order springing to her lips, but thinks better of it and looks at Pike. "Sir, I have an idea, but I'm going to need Mr. Spock to pull it off."

He grins. "Well, since it means you uttering words I never thought I'd hear, I'm going to have to say yes now."

"Was hoping that you would," Jane says. She leaves tactical and joins Spock at science. "Think you can get access to the sensor data from the Kelvin attack? That and the search afterward?"

He nods. "I can. The transmission would have to come from Memory Alpha, but the sensor data should be in their computer banks."

"Get it."

"What am I looking for, Commander?"

Jane grins. "Everything. Anything. Something that isn't supposed to be there, but wouldn't have stood out to Starfleet as something of note. There was a reason they missed it and it wasn't sloppy research. Hopefully, though, whatever it is will stand out to you." Her grin widens. "Time to put your money where your mouth is, Mr. Spock."

"A most peculiar sentiment," he says. "At a later date, I would ask you to explain its significance."

"And I would say no," Jane turns around. "More fun when you don't understand a word that I'm saying."

"Do I want to know where you're going with this?" Pike asks.

She doesn't jump, but it's a near miss. The man needs a bell. "Honestly, sir, I have no idea. I'm flying by the seat of my pants here." She presses her lips together, ducking past him to tactical. "My father's death's always been something of an obsession. I'm sure you noticed."

"Might have, yes," he says. "Point being?"

"In between hating the Klingons and cursing the Federation," Jane taps the console, double-checking weapons, "I did a little research. You were right about the vessel not matching any known configuration. It's got some similarities to Klingon vessels, but definitely more advanced. It could be of Romulan design, of course, Starfleet Intelligence has it's suspicions about that, but I doubt it. The Romulans would have to be insane to sell that kind of technology to a race guaranteed to use it against them."

"And the Romulans are definitely not that." Pike leans against the console. "All right, so go with it, what's that tell you?"

"Not a damn thing," Jane says, "but I can make a guess or two."

He nods. "All right, make a guess."

"I'm thinking it's neither," Jane says. "Not Romulan, not Klingon, someone else. Someone who _wants_ us to think it's the Klingons."

"With respect, Commander," Spock interrupts, "it would seem they are interested in you specifically."

"Why, I have absolutely no idea," Jane says. She stares at the readings on the weapons. "I'm the temporary tactical officer of a starship on a shakedown cruise." A rueful smile tugs at her lips. "It hardly makes me a useful target."

"Not yet," Pike muses.

"What?" Jane turns. "Beg your pardon?"

He smiles. "Just throwing an idea out there. At the moment, Commander, your assignment isn't anything to brag about. I don't think anyone on this ship would argue it's going to stay that way. If Spock is right, and I think he is, then someone wants you good and mad at the Klingons."

Jane bites her lip. "We're still back to why. What could I possibly do that would make me _that_ high priority a target?"

"What indeed," Spock muses. "It is a pity we cannot find out."

Jane's not so sure it is a pity. Some things you just aren't meant to know.

-

They come out of warp to a mess. At the helm, Sulu curses creatively, taking the ship into a dizzying series of maneuvers that not even the Enterprise's inertial dampeners can completely surprise.

"Report!" Pike barks.

Jane and Spock both bend over their stations. "Wreckage, Captain," she reports.

"But not Starfleet issue," Spock adds. "Analysis of the hull fragments suggests a civilian ship. Possibly Andorian in origin, though design elements of other species are present."

"Trader," Jane says. "Mix and match, make do with what you can as long as it works." She works her console, sensors looking for any sign. She wishes Bones were on the bridge, at her side. She needs him. She needs him to distract her from the what-ifs currently screaming their way through her mind. "Sir, I have the Potemkin. She's intact -- more or less."

Less rather than more. The ship shows multiple hull breaches, the hull pockmarked with the telltale signs of weapon's fire. She's hurt, bad, but still manages to spit fire, a volley of torpedoes streaking through space toward a familiar ship.

"Fuck," someone says.

Jane finds herself agreeing.

"Life signs?" Pike asks. He slowly pushes to his feet, letting momentum carry him down to the viewscreen. Jane looks up as well and stares at her mother's ruined ship. She blinks and, for a moment, it's the Kelvin that she sees instead.

Not again. She can't do this again.

"_Life signs_," Pike repeats, stressing the words, and Jane jerks out of the moment to the realization that Number One is staring at her. Number One and half the bridge crew. She clears her throat, blushing as she works the panel before her.

In an unexpected gesture of mercy, Spock comes to the rescue by supplying the answer with his customary superiority.

"Four hundred and thirty two. There appears to have been casualties."

No shit.

Again eyes go to Jane, but her attention is, mercifully, elsewhere. "Sir, we have a ship incoming." She looks up at the captain, focusing her eyes on Pike's face. "Looks Klingon to me and their weapons are armed."

"All right then, showtime. Red alert, shields up, all hands to battlestations." Pike returns to his chair in a few quick strides, looking up at his XO. "Number One -- "

She nods once, going to the communications station. Jane watches the exchange with momentary interest, but lets it pass without comment. The only interest she has in communications at the moment would be the anything coming in from the Potemkin.

"Commander, you with me?" Pike asks.

"Aye, sir," she reports, as crisp as she can make it, kicking herself for the momentary lapse. There are _cadets_ watching, for fuck's sake. "Just -- " she shakes her head, looking at the sensor data. "This is the best look we've gotten at it." Or at least, the best look they know of. With the number of starships that have inexplicably disappeared in the last twenty years, there are a lot of possible witnesses.

"And?"

"Why are they letting us get it?" Jane frowns. "They haven't even fired yet. What are they waiting for? A formal invitation?"

Pike smiles unpleasantly. "Let's give it to them, shall we?" He flicks a glance back at Communications. "Hail them."

"Channel open, Captain," a familiar voice reports. Jane looks up, not particularly surprised to see Uhura.

Pike doesn't need to be told twice. "This is Captain Christopher Pike of the Federation starship Enterprise. You are hereby ordered to cease any hostilities toward the USS Potemkin and stand down. If you refuse to do so we will be forced to fire and -- "

The ship shudders with the first torpedo strike.

"Guess they don't are," Jane says to Pike, watching the energy be deflected b the ship's shields. "No damage, sir, but that was no love tap. Request permission to return fire?"

Pike's mouth sets in a firm line as he nods. "Permission granted, Commander. Uhura, see if you can get someone on the Potemkin to answer. I need a sitrep on their systems."

Jane unleashes a barrage of torpedos and phaser strikes on the enemy, annoyed to see them do minimal damage. She tries again even as the Klingons respond. Space between them lights up with the brilliant flare of weapons' fire. Jane watches a stray torpedo impact one of the the Potemkin's nacelles, part of it buckling.

"Hit on the Potemkin, sir," she reports. "They can't take many more of those."

"Move us away from them, Mr. Sulu," Pike orders. "Let's not hit then with any more than we need to."

"I don't think that'll be a problem, sir," Jane says, staring at the readings with absolute disbelief. "They're running."

"What?" Pike snaps. "Sulu!"

"On it, sir," Sulu says and the ship jerks to warp.

Jane looks up from her readings to watch Pike circle around toward her. "Something bothering you, sir?" she asks.

"The same thing bothering you I expect, Commander," he says, leaning against her console.

"This makes absolutely no sense?"

"Got it in one," he agrees. "They had plenty of time to destroy the Potemkin and bolt."

"Not just that," Jane says. "Take a look at the scans I got of them. It's not much, but their power utilization curve? What they hit us with isn't even a _fraction_ of what they're capable of. One on one, even the Enterprise wouldn't be much of a match for them. They could have taken the Potemkin out, finished us off, and still had plenty of juice left for whoever stumbled in on the fun."

"And yet they're running," he says. "Curiouser and curiouser. I'm starting to think there's something to that theory of yours after all."

"Maybe," Jane says. "Maybe not. We need to go back."

"I beg your pardon, Commander?" Pike says, astonished. "You want us to break off pursuit?"

"Absolutely, Captain," Jane says. "They're going to figure it out soon and we need to get back there before they do."

"Figure out _what_, Jane," he snaps. "You're not making any sense."

"Default state of existence some would say," Jane says, practically bouncing in her boots. "I know why they're running." It's a hunch, but she knows she's right. She _knows_ she is. Pulling up the scans of the Potemkin, she starts looking. When she finds it, she transfers it to Spock's console and bypasses the captain. "You need to see this, sir," she says. "Both of you."

"I beg your pardon, Commander?" Spock asks.

Jane leans past him, pulling the scans up. "Is it my imagination or is that a shuttle hiding between Potemkin's nacelles?"

He perks up, leans forward and stares. "It is most certainly something. The scans are imprecise."

"Ambient radiation from the nacelles getting in the way," Jane agrees.

Spock gives her a look. "I am well aware of the nature of warp physics, Commander."

She grins, enjoying his aggravation until Pike clears his throat, reminding her of the task at hand. "Right, sir, if you'll look here, I'm sure the commander will show you what I mean."

"It would be easier if we had more data," Spock says, "however, this will have to do." He works his panel, fighting with the data. As she and Pike both watch, the readings, they slowly clarify, resolving into that of a vague form.

"The commander is right," Spock says. "It does appear to be a shuttlecraft. Without further data, I cannot specify as to its origins. However, I can say with some certainty that it is not one of Starfleet issue."

"Jane," Gary calls out. "You're going to want to see this."

Jane turns around, looking at him in confusion. "See what?"

With more than a little superiority, Gary grins. "_I_ am receiving a transmission. It's coming in through the deflector dish." He looks back at Uhura, shrugging his apologies. Jane groans inwardly, recognizing the glint in his eye. Gary has a crush. She angles her body, hoping Spock _doesn't_ see the look. She's not sure what he would do, but she's not willing to tempt fate. "Not much to it, but it's definitely a message."

"Mr. Mitchell, you're enjoying this a little too much for it to be that simple," Jane says. Belatedly, she blushes. "Sorry, sir," she murmurs to Pike.

He grins. "We'll work on that later." Raising his voice, he adds, "Let's have it, Mr. Mitchell. What's got that grin on your face?"

"The message, sir, it's addressed to _Captain_ Kirk."

Jane looks at Pike, raising her hands. "I didn't do it, I swear."

He snorts. "Uhura, can you pick it up?"

"It should take a moment or two, sir, but yes," Uhura agrees, looking annoyed.

Pike nods, satisfied, and turns to look at Sulu and Gary. "Mr. Sulu? Any chance we'll be overtaking our Klingon friends anytime soon?"

With some frustration, Sulu turns to face his captain. "They're increasing speed, sir," he reports. "At this rate, we don't stand a chance."

He looks at Mitchell and Gary nods. "He's right, sir. That design -- they're too fast for us. Engineering can give us everything they've got and then some and we'll still have to get out and push."

This time, Pike looks annoyed. "Can't outrun them, can't outfight them. Anything we can do?" His gaze flicks expectantly to Number One. "Suggestions?"

Never one to be ruffled, Number One looks almost serene as she says, "Recommend being sneaky bastards, sir."

Jane knew there was a reason she loved that woman. She grins. "I think I quite concur with the XO's suggestion." She clasps her hands behind her back, trying for some appearance of dignity. "Can't fight fair when you can't get them to stand still long enough to start one."

"You would," he says in such a tone that makes Jane blush. Mercifully, the words 'Kobayashi Maru' don't cross his lips. Instead, he turns around to Uhura. "Anything on that transmission?"

"Almost done, sir," Uhura answers. She works her panel for a moment. "Commander Mitchell is right, it's addressed to Captain Kirk." She watches it for a moment, hands moving in lazy patterns as she pokes and prods at it. Right up until she stops, staring at the screen. "That can't be right."

Jane closes her eyes. "Cadet, have I ever told you how much I hate those words?"

"Well, you're going to hate this more, Commander," Uhura replies. "Captain Pike, this transmission? It's coming from Spock."

"I assure you, Miss Uhura, I have sent no such transmission," Spock replies. "Were I do to so, it certainly would not be sent to Commander Kirk."

"And he sure as hell wouldn't promote me," Jane says, unable to resist. Cashier her out of the service maybe. "There has to be some kind of mistake."

"There isn't," Uhura insists. "It's quite clear."

"Well, whatever it is, it's not clear," Pike says. "All right, Sulu, break off pursuit. Let's head back to the Potemkin." He shoots a glare in the direction of the viewscreen. "I have a feeling our friends aren't done with us yet."

-

"Uhura can't explain it, but she's right." Jane passes the PADD to Pike. "The message consisted of Commander Spock's personal identification code repeated over and over. It's as if Spock were calling for help but couldn't risk saying anything over an open channel."

"It would explain why it came over navigation," Number One agrees. "Someone was trying to slip it past unnoticed."

"Or it could be a fake," Pike says, sighing. "Our friends on that ship trying to put us off?"

"Don't see why they would," Jane shrugs. "You said it yourself, sir, we can't outrun them and we can't outfight them. Why would they need a diversion when they've got us completely outgunned? We're the closest Federation ship. It's not like we could call for help. There's no reason, but if it is a fake, Uhura will find out. She's ripping it apart as we speak."

"You sound quite confident in the cadet's abilities," Number One observes.

"I've seen her in action," Jane says "She's good, Commander. Better than most I've seen in a long time." She looks at Pike. "As the captain can tell you."

He chuckles. "Yes, I've put in for her assignment to this ship, Jane. Can't you leave me a few surprises?"

"I hate surprises, sir," she says, sweet as honey. "Which you well know." She doesn't miss the look that passes between Number One and Pike, but doesn't ask either. She's got more than enough to worry about.

The turbolift comes to a halt, doors sliding open to admit them onto the shuttle deck. "Anyway, it doesn't matter either way. If it's a fake," she tips her head at the security team waiting outside the shuttle bay doors, "the culprits are going to get a rather unpleasant hello."

One of her people hands her a phaser and Jane sets it to heavy stun. "Request that you stay behind me, sir. I'd hate to hit you or the commander by mistake."

"Seen your aim," Pike says, grinning, "the way you shoot, standing in front of you'd probably be the safest spot."

Jane turns away before she rolls her eyes. He'll let her get away with a lot, but insubordination isn't one of them. "All right, kids, let's do this the easy way. I do it the hard way and Boyce'll let his cadets use us for cadavers." She punches her authorization code into the wall console and the doors cycle open.

"Well," she says, getting her first look inside. Faced with a young Klingon woman and her older Vulcan companion, Jane isn't quite sure say so she goes for the obvious. "I didn't see that one coming."

"Please," the Klingon says. She's holding the Vulcan up. He's bleeding, so's she, and Jane has a feeling there's one hell of a story standing in front of her. "He's hurt -- "

The Vulcan lifts his head, his eyes fixing on Jane. The transformation that comes over his lined features is almost miraculous. It's practically the Vulcan equivalent of lighting up like a Christmas tree. She thinks, maybe, he murmurs her name and then passes out.

Jane dives for a comm unit. "Kirk to Sickbay, medical emergency!"

-

She's not haunting Sickbay, exactly, but she's pretty close to it. Number One joins her part way through her vigil and Jane looks up. "The Potemkin?"

"Cait and Engineering are on it." Number One grins. "She's got this new engineer she's been raving about. Apparently, he's some kind of miracle worker and she's dying to see what he'll make of it." Her smile fades and she looks uncharacteristically hesitant. "Your mother is aboard. She's meeting with Captain Pike."

"Ah," Jane nods. "Good." It's not that she's not relieved, she is, but her relationship with her mother has never been all that...comfortable. It's not her mother's fault, Jane knows that, but it's not her fault either, she knows that too, it just _is_. "I'll speak with her later." Later probably being a three line message over subspace. It's the Kirk family way these days.

Folding her arms, she leans against the wall and nods at Sickbay's closed doors. "I just need to be here right now."

"A hunch?" Number One asks. "Chris speaks highly of your hunches."

Jane laughs. "So I hear," she says. "Honestly, I don't know what this is. It was the way he looked at me. I just -- " she shakes her head. "I don't know. I need to be here."

Sickbay's doors part, sliding open silently, and Boyce emerges. "Still here, eh?" he asks.

With a little grin, Jane nods. "How is he?"

"For a man of his age and, for what I can tell, he's in excellent condition."

"For what you can tell?" Number One frowns. "Is there a problem, Phil?"

"Well, other than the fact he's incredibly stubborn, no." Phil looks at Jane. "He's insisting on speaking with you. He let me treat the obvious wounds, but he's refusing a full examination until he's seen you."

Jane looks at Number One. "Commander?"

"Go head," Number One says. "We need to know what he knows and the faster, the better."

-

She steps into Sickbay. "Hello?"

"Jane." His voice is stronger, calmer, and he greets her standing on both feet. "It is agreeable to see you well, my friend."

"You don't look so bad yourself," Jane says, cautiously. "Dr. Boyce says that you're feeling better?"

"Yes," he says.

"He also says you won't let him examine you further," Jane perches on a biobed, looking at him. "You have no idea how annoying he finds it when patients refuse to behave." She grins. "Believe me, I can speak from experience."

"I am familiar with Dr. Boyce's idiosyncrasies," the Vulcan assures you. "We served together for many years."

"Well, now, forgive me for being a little skeptical, sir," Jane says, "but I don't see how that's possible." She kicks her feet casually, watching him pace the length of the biobed. "As I recall, the only Vulcan that Dr. Boyce has personally served with is Commander Spock." She tips her head. "With respect, he's a little younger than you." She's reasonably sure that Boyce hasn't done any serious work on Vulcan, even less with the diplomatic service, and he's been Pike's CMO for years.

He stops. "That is correct. You may find what I am about to tell you difficult to believe, Captain."

Jane crosses her legs. "Oh,I promise you, sir, I already do."

The Klingon snickers. "Wait for it, ma'am."

He moves closer. "I have been, and always shall be, your friend." His voice becomes strained and Jane won't swear to it, but the look in his eyes is almost one of relief...and sorrow. "Once, many years ago, or – from your perspective - many years from now, you and I shared a conversation in which I remarked this sentiment to you. Present circumstances have changed nothing, Jane."

He takes yet another step closer, his presence filling her awareness, and there's _something_ about it. Something so familiar --

"Wait," Jane holds up a hand. "I must be losing it, but are you trying to tell me that _you_ are _Spock_?"

'Spock' nods once. "Yes."

"Fuck me," Jane breathes.

There's no arguing his reaction to that. He looks pained. "Despite many rumors to the contrary, we never engaged in physical intimacies. I believe it amused you far too much to give anyone the satisfaction."

"Oh, now you're just messing with me," she says, grumbling.

He tips his head, but doesn't argue. "I must request your forgiveness for reaction, but it is most agreeable to see you again, and I find myself ill-prepared to deal with the resulting effect."

Astonished, Jane fumbles around for something to say. Something that would make any of this make sense, but her mind is - understandably - a complete blank. "I'm -- " She shakes her head. "I just have no idea what to say to you right now."

"Understandable," he says. "I have laid a rather fantastical tale upon you, but I must reiterate, I am indeed Spock. Albeit, I am one hundred and ten years senior to the Spock that you now serve with."

Looking into the aged Vulcan's eyes, Jane catches that air of familiarity again, but can't quite bring herself to believe it. That can't be _him_. This man is completely devoid of the superiority and disapproval she's accustomed to seeing from Spock.

"No," she says, shaking her head again. "I've sat through more than one time travel story, but, with all due respect, sir, I can't accept this. Are you sure that you're all right?" It would be rude to ask if he's senile, so Jane bites back the question. Besides, she's not even sure Vulcans _can_ be senile. Maybe they just get older and more logical. She's seen T'Pau in action. There's nothing feeble about _that_ woman. "You really expect me to believe this?"

"I do not," Spock says simply. "It is perfectly irrelevant to my purposes whether or not you believe me, Jane." A faint look of bemusement takes over his features. "Nevertheless, though you do not wish to, you do indeed believe me."

Jane scowls. "No, I don't. You're not Spock. You _can't_ be Spock. Not sounding like -- " she waves a hand. "Well, sounding like you!"

His brow furrows. "I fail to see how the sound of my voice should have any bearing on the matter of my identity. Are you sure that _you_ are all right, Jane?"

Jane shakes her head. "Now, see, _that_ sounds like Spock." Before he can ask, she elaborates. "Trust me, the only way that Commander Spock would find it agreeable to see me was if I were resigning my commission at the time."

"Indeed," Spock says, trading a look with his Klingon escort. The young woman lifts her shoulders in a shrug. "I had not anticipated this." He takes a step toward Jane, but he falters and his escort is at his side in an instant. Irrespective of Vulcan propriety, she wraps an arm around his waist and helps him to a chair.

"You must forgive the ambassador, Captain," she says, "but the escape from the Du'Moch was -- difficult."

"I can imagine," Jane says. "And it's Commander. While I appreciate the promotion, I can promise you, the captain doesn't."

Spock looks up in surprise. "You are not the captain of this ship?"

"No and I'd be careful who you suggest that around." Jane grins. "Captain Pike might think I'm fixing to mutiny." She remembers their 'encounter' on the bridge and the whispered conversation they'd shared before the clothes came off. She clears her throat and looks away before her blush can betray her. "No, I'm the ship's tactical officer. Fresh off a hitch at Starfleet Academy."

"Where you met Commander Spock?" Ambassador Spock - and she's going to have to give him that one - asks, taking a glass of water from his companion.

"Met him again," Jane says. "We, uh, have known each other for a few years." She coughs delicately. "He designed a test, and, well, I might not have taken it properly -- "

"Ah," says Spock. "He designed the Kobayashi Maru? Fascinating." His eyebrow creeps up and Jane has the very distinct sense that he's laughing at her. "You cheated again?"

"It was not cheating!" Jane protests. "Not _really_. The test is flawed, Ambassador, even you have to admit that much. I don't -- "

"Believe in no-win." Spock nods. "You never did." He almost smiles. It's damn creepy. Really. She doesn't doubt that he's Spock, but that doesn't mean she can make herself accept it either. Not with him making expressions like _that_. "I found it most inspirational."

Jane blinks. "Did he take any blows to the head in your escape?" she asks, directing her question to the as-yet-unnamed Klingon.

To her surprise, the young woman laughs. "No. That's just the ambassador. I think he gets a kick out of messing with us."

"I assure you, Kitara, I do not," Spock says.

"Bullshit," both women course.

Again the eyebrow sweeps upward. "You will refrain from such agreement in the future," he says. This tone is a familiar one. Jane can't argue it this time. That's _definitely_ Spock. She'd know his 'fuck you and the sehlat you rode in on' tone _anywhere_. "I find it most disconcerting."

Jane looks up. Somewhere out of their sight, security cameras are recording every moment of their encounter. She can only imagine what Number One and Dr. Boyce are making of this. To say nothing of Bones.

"Sorry," she says, almost cheerful now. "I think pissing Spock off is pretty much autonomous for me now." She shrugs. "At least I believe you, right?"

He nods. "Indeed. There is that." Sitting back, he passes the glass to Kitara. "Then I am to take it that you and he are not friends?"

"God no," Jane says, laughing. "He hates me."

"I do not believe that is the case," Spock says. "I cannot imagine a situation arising wherein I would hate you."

She almost, _almost_, says 'you're not him' but catches herself in time. No need to make a complete moron out of herself. "Well," she sighs. "I don't know that he hates me, but we are very different people. Spock spends most of his days in absolute disapproval of everything I do." Possibly even breathing, but she leaves that part out.

"Perhaps," Spock allows. "In the beginning, I found your actions almost incomprehensible. You, in turn, found my methods equally mystifying. Later, you came to describe that difference as one of our greatest strengths."

Jane can't believe that. Well, she _can_ in that it sounds like her. The best command teams are usually a study in contrast and she and Spock definitely have contrast coming out their ears.

Pardon the pun.

"Again, sir, I don't mean to be disrespectful, but -- I _really_ said that?"

"Yes," he nods. "You remarked on it many times. Particularly as it related to those early days." He pauses to consider that. "I had forgotten how difficult they were."

Jane raises a Spock-like eyebrow. "Indeed."

He glances up, bemused. "It really is quite agreeable to see you again. I had begun to think stopping Valeris might be truly impossible. I no longer think that is the case."

She smiles. "And who exactly would be Valeris?"

Spock's expression tightens. She's not sure how she knows that, but she can see the subtle change. "She is a difficult matter."

"She was a Starfleet officer once," Kitara interrupts. "Until -- "

"No," Spock says. He stands and holds a hand out to Jane. "This is not something which can be explained easily, Captain. It is better that I show you."

Jane stars to correct him, she's not the captain, but then his words catch up. "_Show_ me? Do I even want to know what you mean?"

"Forgive me," Spock says, dropping his hand. "It is difficult to speak with you in this fashion. I am accustomed to your experience in matters you have not yet even thought to encounter." He paced a few steps away, giving Jane another hint of expected familiarity. Another hint of a life she's never lived. "I refer to the Vulcan technique of the joining of two minds. It is an ancient practice that is used, to varying degrees of intimacy, in many aspects of our lives."

"Vulcans are touch telepaths," Jane nods. "I know." She remembers the awkward explanations on the Intrepid. "It's why you avoid casual physical contact. You consider it an invasion of the other's privacy."

"Yes," Spock agrees. "However, we are able to deepen the reading and convey information back and forth." He casts a glance toward the wall. "What I wish to tell you -- it is better that your shipmates do not know. It may change too much. I am responsible for so much damage to the timeline already, I do not wish to risk more."

"Damage to the timeline?" Jane scrunches her face. "This is going to be one of _those_ conversations isn't it?"

Spock's expression relaxes, his eyebrow rising, and, yes, deep down he is laughing at her. "It is gratifying to know you have remained so close to yourself."

"Well, you know me," Jane says, "I like me." She's completely out of her depth and she knows it. She can feel it going over her head higher and higher with each passing second. "And why shouldn't I be myself? How exactly is it that you're Spock, but -- "

"One hundred and ten years his senior," Spock finishes serenely, again raising his hand. "The rest, Captain, is best explained through the meld."

Jane bites her lip. "I can't believe I'm even considering this." She glances at the door. "We'd better hurry. Once Boyce realizes what's happening, Bones'll be in here ready to rip your ears off."

"Bones?" Before she can explain, he continues, "Fascinating. Dr. McCoy is already here."

"Already?" Jane asks. "What do you mean already?"

"Dr. McCoy transferred aboard when Dr. Boyce elected to take a position in Starfleet Medical. Up until that point, you had not yet met."

"Well, we've -- " Thinking better of making such an admission to Spock, Jane settles for saying simply, "I know him." Which, of course, is so obvious she realizes she might as well have said it outright. This is _Spock_ after all.

Spock's eyes widen slightly. "Oh."

"I take it, that's new?"

"Quite." He clears his throat. "He will be insufferably pleased with himself should he ever discover this."

"Your Bones?" Jane grins. "I ever run into him, I promise I won't breathe a word about it."

"You have my undying gratitude, Commander," Spock says, quite grave, before pressing warm fingers to her face.

She hears him say something, but to be honest, she stops paying attention as soon as she feels his mind touch hers. Jane's been through a lot, sometimes it feels as though she's seen everything and done everything, but this is completely new. There's a pressure, but she can't say where it's coming from, even pinpoint where it is, but she can feel it. The push of a mind against hers, and then Spock's there.

For a moment, she can feel his reaction. They've done this before. A split second and she can see herself in snapshots over the years. She ages before her own eyes. Years of a familiar hand touches psi-points to bring their minds together.

_Yes_, his voice murmurs. _Many times we have been here_.

Jane hears herself, casual and confident, throw down the phrase 'Vulcan mind meld' and cringes with embarrassment.

A soft sound, _laughter_?, ripples through her mind. Spock.

_You made great use of the ability,_ he agrees.

She winces.

_There is no need for recrimination,_ Spock says. _You asked nothing of me I was not willing to give._ Pain creeps into his sense and Jane nearly pulls away when she realizes why. _Not as I have of you._

_They are dying, Jane._ Spock. Younger than he is now, but older than the man she knows, facing her down. The Klingons. The Klingons are dying. Praxis. Praxis exploded. Fifty years. The Empire dying. All of them --

Her own response shocks her. Pure, cold rage. _Then_ let _them die_.

Aloud, out of the meld, Jane dimly hears herself, "Oh GOD, why? What -- DAVID!" A cry of pain tears its way from her throat and she thrashes with in the meld. Her son. Her little boy.

_THEY KILLED MY SON!_ Jane rages. She sees her son, a man, dead on a dying world. Klingons. The Klingons killed David.

_One Klingon killed David._ Spock's voice, calm and reassuring. _Justice was done_.

Images fly through her head at a rapid rate. She sees the Klingon die. Feels him slip through her fingers.

_Good_.

_Jane,_ Spock draws her attention back to that moment. She hears herself condemn the Klingons to death. _You must listen_.

She watches the rest of it play out. Gorkon's assassination. Her trial. Rura Pente. Khitomer. Cartwright. _Valeris_. That --

Traitor.

The meld breaks and Jane finds herself staring at Spock again. He's exhausted, his hand shaking against her skin. "They listened because of you, Captain," he says and she doesn't correct him. "The Klingons and the Federation both. I brought them to the table. The weight of your reputation kept them there."

"Oh my god," Jane says. "It's because of me."

Spock nods. "I believe that is the case, yes." He moves back to a more respectable difference. "When their treachery was discovered, Admiral Cartwright and Lieutenant Valeris were commended to the Klingons for trial and incarceration. They remained there for the next several decades. Cartwright eventually succumbed to age and illness, but Valeris -- "

"Was a Vulcan woman in her prime." Jane winces. "Oh god."

"She did not make clear to me the circumstances of her escape, but I would imagine there remained elements within the Empire sympathetic to her cause. One of them likely effected her escape and allowed her the use of the Du'Moch. Time travel is known to us. Valeris would have had access to the Enterprise's logs and the computations I used to create it. If her intent was to so poison you against the Klingons that not even my appeals would sway you, then she would require them."

"Time -- " Jane gulps. "Well, the Vulcan Science Directorate will shit a brick."

Spock winces. "Your euphemism, though crude, is correct."

"Doesn't matter," she says, "Valeris is my main concern. Starfleet isn't going to believe you. Not in time. They'll demand proof. DNA and bio scans." She flicks a look at him. "God knows what the Vulcans will ask for."

"Captain Pike will believe me," Spock assures.

"Gonna -- " Jane waves a hand, gesturing to her head, "with him too?"

"No," he says. "Your testimony will be sufficient."

Jane looks at him. "You realize, Mr. Spock, that Captain Pike doesn't actually _trust me_, right?"

Spock raises one eyebrow. "I respectfully disagree, Jane. It is my belief that your presence here suggests otherwise. Knowing him as I do, I do not believe it is the captain's intention to assign you to tactical permanently. While a challenging position, considering your background, it would be an unsuitable fit."

Jane copies his expression. "And what would be?"

"First officer."

Her mouth drops open and Jane stares at him. To his credit, Spock stares back, his expression one of immense satisfaction.

"You had suspected as much, am I correct?"

Jane doesn't answer. Pivoting on one heel, she stalks out of Sickbay, blowing past Number One as she did so. "Did you know about this?" she snaps over her shoulder. "No, forget it. I already know the answer."

Number One, easily keeping stride with her, just looks amused. "If it helps any, I told him it wouldn't work."

"And you're always right," Jane agrees. "What about you?" She stops at the turbolift, looking at Number One. "You two work so well together you make peanut butter and jelly jealous."

"Maybe so," Number One says, "but the Yorktown finds herself suspiciously shy of a captain and Starfleet offered."

"Well, that would be a good reason to part company," Jane steps into the turbolift. Not just her own ship, but the Yorktown. "That's not an offer you refuse." Triggering the control console, she snaps, "Bridge."

"No, it isn't," Number One says. She's quiet for a moment, then looks at Jane. "Do you believe him?"

"Spock? Yes." Jane nods. "You heard him. He was pretty convincing."

"Some of it," Number One replies. "Not all of it. Certainly not what went on in the meld." Her voice softens as she adds, "It seemed quite...intense."

"Not the word for it," Jane says, voice tight. "Suffice it to say, Commander, after what I saw in there, I believe him."

They emerge onto the bridge together. The captain is right where Jane expects to find him. Center seat, head bent over a padd held by Cadet Rand. "How's the leg?" Jane asks, moving toward them.

"Good, thank you, Commander," Rand says, beaming at her. "How's the shoulder?"

"Good, thank you," Jane replies. She glances at the PADD. "Mind giving us a minute?"

Pike gives her a look, then hands the PADD back to the cadet. "That'll be all, Yeoman," he says.

Jane raises a brow at the title, but says nothing until _Yeoman_ Rand leaves the bridge, her eyes bright with excitement. "You just made her year."

"Do you disagree with the decision?" he asks.

"No," she says. "Rand's more than competent. Young, but she can handle it."

"She knows," Number One says, cutting into the conversation. She's grinning. Jane scowls. She _hates_ being a foregone conclusion. "I think, sir, you're in trouble."

"Well, nothing new there," Pike says, merriment in his eyes. "It's familiar ground." He gets out of the chair. "Commander, a word with you?" He stops, apparently thinking better of it. His gaze goes to Number One's, softening, and it's a miracle to Jane that no one can see it. It's all right there every time that he looks at her. "One last time?"

Number One smiles, nodding, and slides into the chair.


	4. By Our Wills - pt 4

-

"I think you owe me an explanation," Jane says, following Pike off the bridge. "You lied to me."

Pike doesn't laugh at her, not visibly, but his amusement fills the turbolift. It's all Jane can do not to push him. Which, she suspects, is precisely the reaction he's going for. "If I'd told you, Jane, would you even be here?"

The instinct to snap an answer is nearly irresistible, but she quells it. Starfleet officers do not throw temper tantrums and punch their captains. No matter how much they fucking deserve it.

She breathes out, heavy and quick, then looks at him. "I don't know."

"My point exactly," he replies. "I couldn't take that chance. I knew, once you were out here, once this ship was beneath your feet, luck might be with me. If I'd asked you back on Earth, I think that we can guess what your answer would be."

She has to give him that.

"Besides," he quips, "by the sound of things, this is supposed to be your ship anyway."

Jane's cheeks heat. "Heard that, did you?" She folds her arms, leaning against the wall. "I believe him. I can't speak for Number One, but I believe him." She shakes her head. "Since I've already had this conversation in the last five minutes, can we skip to the part where, apparently, there is a former Starfleet officer out there trying to incite a _war_?"

"Not to mention derailing an entire timeline," Pike murmurs. "I don't know what else you saw in that meld, Jane, but if the Ambassador's information is correct -- "

"It is," Jane cuts in.

"_If_ it is," he stresses, "then, with respect, I need to know if you can handle this."

"I can handle it," Jane says. She makes sure to make eye contact with Pike. "I promise."

"That ship murdered your father. Tried to murder your mother. I know you, Jane," he says. "You don't just want to take a piece of that ship. You want to take it apart. We need answers, not corpses."

"You're right," Jane says. "I want that ship. I do want to take it apart. I want to get my hands around that woman's throat and squeeze until her head explodes." She hates her. She sighs. "I won't. I want to, but I won't."

Pike looks at her, _really_ looks, and nods finally. "Deal." He gives her a moment then adds, "Fact of it is, Commander, I don't have any options. When Number One told me about the Yorktown, I had one name on my list to replace her. Yours. Don't make me go crawling back to Starfleet."

The turbolift goes dark and then a dull red as the ship goes on alert status. Uhura's voice, calm and unruffled, fills the air, summoning Captain Pike and Commander Kirk to the bridge.

"You planned that," Pike says, a grin tugging at his lips.

"Totally didn't," Jane says, holding up her hands. "Uhura doesn't like me that much."

-

They hit the bridge, moving as one. "Report," Pike barks, his gaze on Uhura.

"Distress call from the Deneva colony, Captain," she says, turning toward him, pulling her earpiece with obvious irritation. "Correction, sir, _multiple_ distress calls. They all report a Klingon vessel in orbit. It's firing."

Jane looks at Number One. "Are we -- "

"En route," Number One says, nodding. "Maximum warp. The Yorktown will be meeting us there."

"It'll be tight,' Pike says.

"Always is, sir," she agrees.

Another grin passes between them.

Jane barely notices it. She goes to tactical, all but elbowing her relief out of her way in her haste to get to the sensor data. She presses hands to the controls, bringing weapons online, messaging back and forth with her supplementary departments, confirming a link to Engineering's systems. Everything at the ready and still not enough to distract her from the sickening twist in her stomach.

_Sam_.

"Commander." Pike at her elbow, his voice pitched too low for the others to hear, watching her. "I know that's your brother's colony, so you understand I have to ask."

"I can handle it, sir," Jane says. She understands why he's asking now, with Sam, and not before. This is different. Sam can't fight back. He's not 'Fleet. He's not sitting in the command chair of a Federation starship with a trained crew backing him up. Deneva is a long-established colony with the standard defense systems, but none of them are even close to standing a chance against a modern day Klingon warship, much less one apparently from the future.

"_Jane_," Pike stresses.

"You lose it, you're useless to me," he says. "There's a lot more people on that planet than just your brother and his family. They're all depending on us." The 'and they're depending on you' isn't said, but she hears it nonetheless. "I need my best officers on this."

Jane pulls back her emotions. Mr. Spock would approve, she thinks, of the way she crushes the fear threatening to shut her down. "I know, sir, and you'll have them. Promise."

-

They drop out of warp to a slew of new distress calls and one familiar, welcome, signal.

"Yorktown is right behind us," Uhura says. "They're asking that we kindly surrender their captain and first officer."

Jane raises an eyebrow when Number One's gaze flicks to Gary's face. Gary grins at her, unrepentant. "I was going to tell you," he says. "Really."

Making a face at him, she turns away from the farewells and moves closer to the conn, giving Chris and Number One a chance to say a proper goodbye. "The idea of _you_ as the first officer of a starship is terrifying. What was she thinking?"

"Probably the same thing Pike was," Gary counters with a grin.

She doesn't hit him, but only because decking people on the bridge is a Klingon tradition. "I should wish you good luck," she says, a gleam of impishness in her eye. "I hear Illyrian names are quite the challenge for the vocal chords. You might want to check in with their comm chief for some lessons."

He groans. "Don't remind me, Jane. She's already been teasing me about my accent."

Jane claps him on the shoulder before he stands. "Go with God, Commander."

Gary winks. "Same to you, Commander."

She follows him up across the bridge, stopping at Uhura's station as he and Number One continue on into the turbolift. "It seems, Lieutenant, we're in need of a navigator."

"A replacement is on the way." Uhura doesn't even look up, her hands flying across her panel at lightning speed. Jane watches her work with fascination. Coordinating interdepartmental communication, reallocating teams, and all the while monitoring the distress calls coming from Deneva. It's dizzying.

"Good." Jane almost turns away, but, despite herself, stops. "Any signals from a Dr. Kirk?"

Uhura's eyes widen slightly, but it's the only reaction the lieutenant provides. "No, ma'am," she says, not so much as a hint of sympathy in her voice. "No one has identified themselves in that fashion."

"All right," Jane says, nodding. "Just keep listening."

"I will, Commander," Uhura replies. She starts to say something else, but grabs her earpiece and spins away from Jane. Her posture goes tight and alert and so does Jane's. Trouble. After a moment, Uhura looks for Pike, her voice cutting through the moment like a phaser strike. "Captain, we're being hailed."

"You said we were getting multiple hails," Jane points out, the instructor in her not quite able to resist.

Uhura's look is withering. "By the _Klingon ship_." Her gaze shifts to Pike. "They're warning us off."

Resting a hand on the back of Uhura's chair, Jane leans in. "Well, now, that's a whole other ball game. Show me."

It's a credit to Uhura that she doesn't hesitate in pulling up the transmission data.

"Curiouser and curiouser," Jane murmurs. "Looks legit, sir."

"On screen, Lieutenant," Pike says.

"Audio only, Captain," Uhura listens to transmission for another moment before adding, "Sir, there's something about the voice. It's speaking Klingon, but the accent on the words sounds Vulcan."

"Point to the Ambassador," Jane murmurs.

Pike nods. "So it would seem." He walks to the Communications station. Jane gives way to let him replace her. "All right, open channel."

When Uhura nods, he speaks again, "This is Captain Christopher Pike of the USS Enterprise. You are hereby ordered to cease your attack on the Deneva colony and retreat from Federation space immediately. You are in violation of several treaties. Remain and we will consider your presence an act of war and respond accordingly."

Turning around, Jane forces herself away from Pike's side to return to the tactical console, fighting the temptation to interrupt and call Valeris on her bluff with every step. Staring down at her console, she starts running through all the same diagnostics and preparations she's already run once. She'll run them again if she needs to. Anything to keep from giving in to the fury roiling in her chest. Sam's down there. _Sam_ is down there. His kids. She swallows hard.

_Bitch_.

She curls one hand around the edge of her console, letting the edges jab her skin and the stinging, soothing feeling of it giving her a refuge from the rage.

Her hands slack when a voice, cold and hard, fills the bridge. It sounds like Standard, Uhura's translators easily pulling it from the Klingon dialect Valeris is using, but Jane can hear a hint of an accent. She looks at Uhura, who nods. Vulcan.

"You are no threat to us, _Terran_," the voice growls. It's a poor approximation of a Klingon, but Valeris is a traitor, not an actor, and not one expecting a wary audience. "We will do as we please." She laughs and that's more disturbing than anything else she could have done. Which, fake Klingon or no, is just _wrong_.

Jane flicks a look at Pike. "We can call her bluff," she says quietly.

He shakes his head. Mouths the words 'not yet' and turns his back. "This is your last warning," he says instead. "If you do not retreat -- "

"They're firing!" Jane interrupts him. She's only seconds ahead of the impact and it's immense. "She's not playing this time. Shield integrity down twenty percent." She looks up at Pike. "Yorktown is moving to flank us."

"Return fire," Pike snaps. "Try not to hit Number One."

"Wouldn't dream of it, Sir," Jane says blithely. This she knows how to do. She opens up with everything she's got and Yorktown does the same. Valeris's stolen ship is fast, powerful, and it becomes clear in a few seconds that there is a strong chance it won't be enough. "She'd never let me hear the end of it."

Unleashing a second volley, she doesn't look up from her readings as she reports, "Direct hit, minimal damage. We need to get their shields down, Captain." She does risk a look for this, saying with her gaze what she dare not say in front of the crew. Either they get the shields down or the fight's over before it starts.

"Any suggestions, Commander?" he asks, moving closer.

The ship rocks with another volley.

"Beaming over and blowing the fuck out of it?" Jane offers. "Sir, they've got a hundred years of technological advancements on us. A few more hits like that one and _we_ won't have any shielding left." She gestures at the readings. "By rights, Sir, we shouldn't even be still here."

"They're holding back?"

"A little, but yes," Jane nods. "If the ambassador was telling the truth, she needs me alive." She blushes as she says it, but what else can she do? "From what he says, this woman has deluded herself into thinking I play some role in -- " She breaks off with a curse. "Sir, she's rounding on the Yorktown."

A navigator passes them at a run. "Sulu!" he yells by way of introduction, taking his seat. "Sorry, Captain," he says, hands flying over the console. "Had a small problem getting out of the lift."

Jane glances back at the doors, half-open, a repair crew telling the story. Not that it matters, Pike is snapping orders, circling the bridge in the direction of the main screen. She and Sulu share a quick assessing look and she grins. "Make it fancy, Mr. Sulu. I'll do the rest."

He grins, brilliant and just a touch cocky. Fuck, she likes him. "Aye aye, Commander."

"Lieutenant Uhura, might want to warn the Yorktown. Would hate for them to shoot _us_."

It's odd, almost funny, how the next few moments play out. Sulu laughs at her comment, Jane smiles to herself, and they keep working. She can almost imagine that Sam's not on Deneva, that his family isn't in danger, that _her_ family isn't in danger, that this is another mission. Nameless, faceless strangers depending on them. Not her family and not her crewmates. She's getting into it, falling quickly into a rapport with Sulu, when everything goes to hell.

It's dizzying, trying to follow the readings, and Jane almost misses it in the chaos. Valeris's ship is angled toward Yorktown, but the weapon's lock lands instead on Enterprise, hitting the ship full on.

There's barely any chance for warning, but Jane snaps a "INCOMING!" anyway. It clears her lips at the same instant as impact and the ship rocks, shuddering. Even as she's thrown to the deck, Jane can hear the screech of metal and the telltale whine of a system's overload.

Everyone recognizes the sound and those not thrown by impact are frantically checking panels, trying to identify and isolate the system, but it's too late. She twists as she falls in a vain attempt to do the same.

She shouldn't have worried.

Not when Uhura's voice, tight and high with strain, details the situation with frightening clarity. "Bridge to Sickbay, medical emergency, the captain is down. Repeat, _the captain is down_."

Jane wishes she could say that she was on her feet in the second, alert and ready to go, but she's not. Her head's spinning, she can feel blood trickling down her face, and everything has gone quite comfortably numb.

Shock.

She doesn't have time for shock. Stumbling across the deck, she falls to her knees by Pike's side. "Fuck," she rasps, afraid to touch him. Electrical burns peek at her through the ruin of his uniform shirt. Beneath that, she can imagine all sorts of horrors waiting.

"Jane!" Boyce's voice strikes her like a whip. It's all the warning she gets before she's surrounded by medical personnel.

Familiar hands grab her shoulders as Bones pulls her up and away from Pike's side. "Lemme see," he says, turning her around. "Aw, fuck, _Jane_."

She tries to smile. "Worse than it looks, Bones, promise." Twisting free of his hands, she looks over his shoulder. "Mr. Sulu, Uhura, report!" They stare blankly at her and she scowls. "Somebody get me a goddamn _status report_!"

Uhura's the first to move. Even before she tears her eyes from the sea of blue surrounding the captain, she's up and out of her chair, heading for tactical.

Jane tries to join her, but Bones is insistent. One hand takes hold of her chin, turning her face to where he needs it. "You even move," he growls in warning, "and I'll sedate you right here."

"I'll be good, Bones," she promises, stopping. Her gaze stays locked on Uhura at tactical, counting off the seconds. "_Lieutenant_ \-- "

"They're gone," Uhura says, looking up. "Just -- gone."

"Cloaked," Jane closes her eyes, feeling woozy. "Hit and run. All right, people, we need to get eyes down on the surface. Rescue teams, whatever Medical can spare, Boyce. Engineering, Security, they're going to need hands and bodies. _Anyone_." She swallows, leaning into Bones's hands. "Damage reports, all decks, and Uhura, call the Yorktown. They need to be -- _Bones_."

He curses and she pitches forward, his arms going tight around her waist. Jane blacks out to the sound of running feet and yelling voices.

-

It's quieter when she wakes, but no less busy. People walk by her, fast but not running, voices muted but insistent. Sickbay. Central. She opens her eyes. "Bones?" Her voice is stronger and her head clear. "_Doctor_." She doesn't ask for Boyce. She knows where Phil is.

She pushes herself up, not bothering to look for Bones as she pushes blankets back, swinging her legs over the side of the biobed.

"Oh no you don't!" Bones snaps, appearing out of nowhere, Christine Chapel at his side.

Both of them are glaring at her, ready for a fight, and Bones is holding a hypo.

Jane holds up a hand. "Forget it, Doctor, I need to get back to the bridge. We're in a crisis -- "

"Ship is gone, Number One's on the planet co-ordinating relief, and the captain's going to live." Bones grabs for a tricorder. "And the first officer is recovering from one hell of a blow to the head.

"The _acting captain_ is recovered," Jane says, getting out of bed. "I need to get back to the bridge, Bones." She needs to get down to the planet's surface. She needs to find Sam and Aurelan. "Am I fit, or am I not?"

Before he can argue, she holds up a hand. "The decision is made, Doctor, I'm just giving you the illusion of a choice. I promise I'll let you give me a full workup later, but right now I need to get back to the bridge. If it helps, you can tell Boyce I threatened to shoot you."

Bones snorts. "Like that would stop me."

"How is he?"  
"Alive," Christine says. "Which is more than he has a right to be." She presents a PADD. "Severe electrical burns, concussive injuries, he's going to be out of commission for a while. We can regenerate the nerve and muscle damage, but the physio -- "

"New muscles are new muscles," Jane sighs. She pinches the bridge of her nose, handing the PADD back. "Fucking hell."

Bones glances at Christine. "Mind givin' us a minute?"

She nods. There are no shortage of patients waiting and she's swallowed up by nurses and technicians a few steps away. Jane watches her go for a moment then looks at Bones.

He smiles. "I won't ask."

"Good," she says. "You wouldn't like the answer." Leaning against the biobed, she wants to hug herself, but keeps her arms at her side. It wouldn't do for the crew to see her like that. Not now. "Bones, I have no idea what I'm going to do. All I can think is Sam is down there -- " she looks past him at surgery. "And Pike -- _Fuck_, Bones."

He drops the hypo on the bed beside her, his hands gripping her shoulders tight. "You leave Pike to us. We'll take care of him. You focus on your job. The crew needs you." He catches her eye, looking her square on. "You can do this, Jane."

Jane tries to smile. "I know. I think. It doesn't matter. I don't have a choice. I have to do it." She squares her shoulders and lifts her chin. "Take care of him, Doctor."

-

She walks onto a ruined bridge swarmed by Engineering staff. Sitting in the command chair, Uhura looks over her shoulder and then hops up like her ass is on fire.

"As you were, Lieutenant," Jane says, waving her hand. "I'm in no hurry." She passes Cait Barry's wonderchild, Scott, with barely a nod of greeting. "How bad is it?"

"Chief Engineer Barry says a day at most."

"Not good enough, tell her to half that. Any word from the planet?"

"Yorktown is reporting heavy casualties," Uhura says. "Nu-- the _captain_ is waiting down there for you." She swallows hard. "Commander, we need to talk."

Jane's face goes hot, hands cold, and she turns around. Leaden feet carry her in the direction of the turbolift. "So talk," she says, cool and composed. At least, until she's in the turbolift. There, she slumps against the turbolift wall. "He's dead then, isn't he?" she asks as soon as the lieutenant joins her.

"Presumed dead, yes ma'am." Uhura looks agonized. "From what we've been able to ascertain, your brother's lab was the first thing hit. It's like they were aiming for him."

Pressing a hand to her face, Jane sighs. "They were." She's afraid to ask. Terrified. Her hand shakes against her skin as she adds, "His family?"

"Unknown," Uhura replies. "We're looking." She steps closer. "Commander -- "

"I'll be all right," Jane says. "It's -- " she breathes deep. "Keep this off subspace, Lieutenant. This _cannot_ get back to my mother. She can't hear about this over open space, all right?"

"All right," Uhura says. She looks hesitant, then reaches out. Her hand is warm against Jane's arm. "I'm sorry," she whispers. "I wish -- I'm _sorry_."

She's crying, but so is Jane.

With a shuddering breath, Jane tries to stop. "Um, have Doctor McCoy meet me in the transporter room. I need to talk to Number One and -- " she can't smile. She _can't_. "I'm sure the Yorktown's doctor could use the help."

"Understood, ma'am," Uhura replies.

She steps back, the lift's doors sliding open once more.

"Lieutenant," Jane stops her. She waits until Uhura is looking at her. "_Thank you_."

Uhura smiles and nods.

-

Jane beams into hell.

The Denevan colony is a smoking ruin. Buildings are crumbling, smoking, some still on fire. Sam's lab is nothing more than ash and slab.

"We failed," Jane says. She doesn't look back at Bones. She can't take the look on his face. She can't. "This shouldn't have -- " she laughs, harsh and angry. "This is _my fault_."

"No, Jane," Bones says, "No it's not. It's hers. She chose to do this, not you." He passes by her, his fingers brushing hers as he moves. She wants him to touch her. She wants to hide. Sob her eyes out. Rage at the universe. She wants to get her hands around Valeris's neck and _squeeze_. She does none of the above. She stands there and listens to him as he earnestly says, "Don't let your guilt confuse you, Jane. This isn't your fault. Even if she's doing this to change your mind, it's _wrong_, Jane. No one has the right to play God and rewrite the universe in their image. That's what she's trying to do. That's what you _can't let her do_."

"Oh, I'm not going to let her, Bones," Jane says. "That changed the second the Ambassador told me what she had planned." She smiles, secure in the honesty of her own hate. "The question I'm facing now is letting her live long enough to witness her own failure, or just killing her now and putting her out of my misery."

He looks at her silently for a moment, disappointment warring with sympathy for control of his gaze. When he speaks, there's nothing but sympathy in his voice, sympathy that flays harder than any anger ever could. "You wouldn't do that, Jane, and we both know it. Whatever you feel, whatever you are capable of, you _won't_."

She closes her eyes and sigh. "I wish I was as good as you think that I am."

"I wish you could see you already are." Bones smiles, just a little, and walks on ahead, forcing Jane to pick up the pace.

-

Sam's lab is a crater. Her brother is dead.

Jane kneels before the rubble, ignoring the white dust that coats her knees, and stares at it. "_Sam_." She presses hands into the dirt, dropping her head, and digging her fingers in. Dirt and glass cut into her skin, but she barely feels it. All Jane can feel is the cold settling down deep, taking over her until all she can feel is the cold. The world greys out around her and she shivers.

"Jane -- "

Dimly, she's aware of Bones calling her name, but she doesn't care. Jane doesn't know how long it's been, or how many times he's done it, before she finally turns her head and looks at him.

"My brother -- "

"Didn't get out," Bones says, nodding soberly. "But there is good news."

Jane wipes at her face, she's been crying and the discovery's a surprise, "What?" Her voice sounds dull and listless even to Jane herself and, distantly, she knows that's not good. Shock. She can't let this happen, not now, she can't let herself slip away. The crew needs her. She _needs_ to focus.

"Oh god, Jane!"

That does it.

"Aurelan?" Jane rises to her feet, turning around. She's just in time to catch a glimpse of her sister-in-law before Aurelan throws herself into Jane's arms, clinging on tight.

Neither of them cries as they cling together. Jane can feel Aurelan shaking, knows she is as well. "I'm sorry," she says, whispering into Aurelan's hair. "I'm sorry we didn't get here in time. If -- "

"Don't," Aurelan whispers. "Don't say it. Just -- " she smiles, her smile harder to face than any tears would have been. "Jane, you know what he would say. You can't blame yourself for this anymore than you could for what happened to your dad."

Jane flinches. If Aurelan only knew...

"Maybe," she says, pulling back. "It'll be a while before I can believe it though." She sucks in a breath and grits her teeth, trying to find the strength to ask about the boys. "Ree --"

"They're okay," Aurelan says. "The boys. They're at the hospital with some officer from the Yorktown." Her smile is a little crooked as she shrugs. "He said that he knew their Aunt Jane. Promised to tell them embarrassing stories."

"Gary." Jane realizes. She nods. "He'll take good care of them." She smiles, somewhat chagrined. "Not to mention humiliate me in the process."

It's not much, but she's actually relieved. "At least they'll have a good time."

She feels her mouth twist, the tears threatening again, and she shuts them down. _Hard_. It's like losing him all over again, but she _can't_ do this right now. She can't. There are too many lives and -- she laughs, swiping at her eyes. "I'm supposed to be the acting captain. You should hear the pep talk I'm giving myself. I sound so fucking ridiculous."

Even devastated, a tiny smirk blossoms on her sister-in-law's face. It's that 'Jane Titania Kirk you are being a _moron_' special she learned from Sam.

Jane covers her eyes with one hand. "Let's pretend, for a moment, that I did not just completely forget the part where my sister-in-law isn't human, is a telepath, and totally _did_ hear the pep talk I'm giving myself."

Wherever Sam is in the afterlife, the jerk is laughing himself _sick_ over this.

"Yes," Aurelan says. "He probably is." She bites her lip, looking nervous. "I know what you'll say, but still -- I think, after all of this is over, I might take the boys home with me to Betazed. I think it would be good for them, but -- "

"Don't," Jane puts hands in hers, squeezing tight. "Betazed _would_ do them some good." She leans forward, resting her forehead against her sister-in-law's. Now the tears slip free, falling unbidden, down her cheeks. "You two always did talk about spending time there and li-" she hiccups, not able to say 'living' not now. "It'd be good," she finishes.

"It will be," Aurelan agrees. "When this is all said and done, you and that ship of yours are going to take us there and, when you do, we are going to have ourselves a good, honest _cry_." She pulls back. Her smile is watery, but it's strong. Confident. Everything that Jane can't feel right now. "All right?"

Jane closes her eyes.

_Sam_.

Her throat tightens, tears choking off her air, and nods. "All right."

-

They're still there, standing over the wreckage, when the others find them. Aurelan looks at Jane. Jane tightens her grip on Aurelan's hand, but doesn't turn to face them. "They're debating what to do next," she says in a murmur.

Aurelan nods. "So tell them."

"Like it's that easy," Jane says. "The captain -- "

"Is you," Aurelan says. She looks steadily at Jane. "At the risk of sounding trite, you need to do this, Jane." Her gaze turns fierce. "She won't stop with Sam."

"You aren't supposed to know about that," Jane says, just a little reproachful. "Any of it."

"Then stop obsessing about it."

"My brother _had_ to marry a telepath." It feels so good to laugh. It's an old joke, but it feels fucking fantastic on her lips. She closes her eyes, taking in a deep breath. "I can't do this, Ree."

Aurelan huffs a laugh. "Who says you have a choice?"

"Commander Kirk, a word if you please?" Number One says, cutting off any attempt at a pithy comment.

Jane opens her eyes. "No."

"I beg your pardon?" Number One says, looking faintly incredulous. "No, what?"

Jane sucks in a breath and straightens. "The Yorktown will stay here and help with the rescue operations." She doesn't look at Aurelan or the others. She doesn't. She just has to keep talking long enough to convince them both. She _has to_. "Enterprise, on the other hand, will give chase. It's me that Valeris wants, then it's me Valeris gets."

"And the rest of your crew?" Number One asks pointedly, raising one eyebrow. So _that_ is where Spock learned it.

"She won't have them," Jane says, grim and hard. "Whatever the fuck this woman is looking for, she's not going to have any of it. At any rate, if there's one thing we've established, it's that for Valeris's plan to work, the Enterprise and I have to survive." Her smile is more a grimace as she adds. "My plan, fortunately, requires the opposite for Valeris and her ship." Producing her communicator, she looks at Bones. "Doctor -- "

Bones at least does her the courtesy of walking a few steps away before he snaps, "If you even _think_ you can order me to stay behind -- "

"Wasn't planning on it, Doctor," Jane says, crisply. "I was about to order you to come with me. I'm sure Dr. Boyce will want a say, of course, but I expect he's going to stay behind and co-ordinate with the Yorktown's CMO."

He clears his throat, embarrassed. "Well then, guess this conversation's going to go a lot easier than I had planned."

Jane smiles. "I expect so." She glances back at the others, then steps closer. She looks at him, not quite captain, but not quite lover either. "I'm going to need you with me for this." She feels metal bite into flesh and realizes she's gripping her communicator like a weapon. "When the time comes -- " She doesn't trust herself. "She murdered my _brother_, Bones." She thinks of Sam, Aurelan, and their boys, smiling and waving goodbye at the spaceport. The letters from Deneva with Sam complaining about everything from shipping delays and deadlines for science journals to Aurelan's persistent tardiness for dinner.

(Given Sam's idea of cooking mirrored his younger sister's, Jane couldn't blame Aurelan.)

"And your father," Bones says, his voice maddeningly gentle. She's heard him use that one before. Dear Dr. McCoy empathizing with a patient. It is as soothing as it's supposed to be. She wants to tell him to knock it off, but at the moment, it's precisely what she's looking for.

"Yeah," Jane says, her voice rough. "And Dad." She flips open the communicator. "I want to kill her, Bones."

"You won't," he says, more confident about that than she is. "Not in cold blood."

Jane wishes she could believe that, but it's enough that he does. She nods, smiles, and flips her communicator open. "Kirk to Enterprise, two to beam up."

-

"I need to see Pike," she says, just as soon as they materialize, rushing off the pad just as soon as the transporter chief gives her the nod.

"He's _unconscious_, Jane," Bones says, following hot on her heels. "And I don't care where Boyce is, he'd have my ass I even thought about trying to wake him up." He pauses to take a breath. Literally. She hears the quick intake of breath that gears him up for the next round.

It's a miracle, really, how he can lecture her like that. Sometimes she thinks, maybe, he's got them stored up. He has to practice. Late at night when she's asleep. Trying 'god_damn_ it, Jane' in of the mirror until he gets the growl just right.

"- which I wouldn't, so don't you goddamn well even _hint_ at it," he's saying when she tunes back in.

"Promise, Doctor, I'd never even think of doing such a thing." Walking into the turbolift, she snaps around and grins at him. "At least, not this time."

-

"You get two minutes," Bones warns, letting the door slide shut behind him.

"Won't need that long," she replies to the air. She stands there, just inside the door, staring at the man on the bed. Pike is a mess. It's difficult to remember that his prognosis, according to the terse report Boyce logged, is actually a complete recovery.

Mostly.

It's not going to be immediate. There's extensive nerve and muscle damage, caused by the shocks to his system, and while both can be regenerated, the lifetime of training they've received cannot. Even in the twenty-third century, physical therapy is a process measured in months, not minutes.

Jane presses lips together, swallowing hard, as she stares at him. She should be the one lying here, surrounded by equipment, while he handles the emergency. She's good. The days when she pretended humility about her capabilities are long gone, drilled out of her by Starfleet training and the tragedies of deep space. She knows what she can do, she knows it's better than most, but she also knows it means nothing in the face of experience.

Nothing like what Chris Pike is capable of on his worst day. Dumb luck and chance, not planning or villany, saw to it that all of his experience sit idle.

She smiles, feeling a previously-unnoticed cut on her lip protest, and murmurs, "Instead, I get to make shit up."

On tentative steps, she crosses the room to stand at his side. "I'm scared," she confesses, keeping her voice a low murmur. There's no chance he can answer her, Boyce induced coma, but she's afraid of waking him all the same. "I'm scared and I'm jealous. _She_ would know how to handle this." The other her. The woman who, thirty years in the future, in a timeline a universe away from this, made a decision that changed the world - _worlds_ \- and damned Jane to this. "I think I hate her for that."

She half-laughs. What the psychiatrists down the hall would make of _that_.

"You should not," Spock, the _Ambassador_, says from the shadows.

Jane curses, stumbling back, and glares across the bed at him. "I should _bell_ you both. He does the same damn thing and -- "

The Ambassador's eyes glitter, amused, and he nods. "I am aware. The Admiral once gifted me with just such a bell. She insisted that it would, likely, prolong her life by several decades by allowing her to regain the years that I had scared from it." He tips his head. "She was fond of such fanciful reasoning. Particularly when able to subject me to it."

Jane makes a face. "I still hate her."

"Such emotion is illogical."

"Ambassador, I'm dangerously close to ordering you to never say that word in my presence again," Jane says, voice sharp. "It's beginning to tire me."

He makes a noise. It's not a laugh, but in Vulcan parlance... "You cannot. At the time of my retirement from Starfleet, I had achieved, and maintained, the rank of captain. You cannot order me to do anything -- _Commander_."

Smackdown.

Jane doesn't acknowledge his victory. She lifts her chin and looks at him. "My brother is dead." Blunt honesty is all she's capable of right now. "Captain Pike almost died. Anything you can tell me about Valeris, now's the time to do it, before she targets anyone else in my life."

There's a short list of possibilities. Sam's family. Carol. _David_.

Spock lowers his eyes from hers and she sees, barely, his fingers curl into a tight fist.

Anger.

_Good_.

At least they're in agreement about something.

"I had thought we were in orbit above Deneva," he says. "The planet seemed familiar." There's an edge of distaste on his voice that tells her that a story's lurking behind it.

A thread of a memory, the barest of one, tugs at her mind and Jane reaches for it. Another of those leftovers from the meld, lurking at the edges of her thoughts, slipping away as soon as she makes contact. It's an echo of a sound, shrill and alien, and she shivers.

"I don't want to know, do I?"

He lifts his gaze, quirks a brow, and nods. "You do not." He looks at Pike. "In my timeline Captain Pike suffered similar injuries later in his career."

"Similar?"

"Far more severe. They ended his career." Spock exhales quietly. "I am told that is not the case in this situation."

"It's not," Jane agrees. "Why do I have the feeling you're trying to tell me the thing I don't want to know?"

"Time is not a sentient being," Spock begins, "however it does have an expectation of order." He looks at Pike. "This timeline has suffered damage, trauma, which has resulted in its splintering from its original course. It is, in its own way, attempting to correct that splintering."

"So, Pike gets injured here because Pike was injured there?" Jane smiles, bitter and hard. "Something for the boys in Sciences to shit themselves over, but -- " her smile hardens further, cooling, as realization sinks in. "Sam."

"An invasion of a parasitic species. We were too late to save Sam or his wife."

"The boys?"

"All survived. Two were on Earth with your parents," and doesn't _that_ hurt like a sonofabitch, "and we discovered a treatment in time to save Peter." Spock inhales. "It is likely she believes that, in this timeline, his death was a more honorable one."

His voice flattens. "She is wrong." Rounding the bed, Spock grabs her hands in his, holding so tight Jane almost expects the bones to break. "Jane -- "

He doesn't say it. He doesn't have to.

"David died in that timeline too." Jane goes numb. "She's going to Earth."

-

Spock is waiting on the bridge. "Course is set and laid in, Captain," he says while she's still catching her breath. He comes to stand at her side, stiff and straight, as if he's belonged there this entire time.

She catches a glimpse of memory, Spock's memory, and almost smiles. Maybe he has. "Commander, it's against regulations to monitor the ship's captain without his consent."

He nods. "Indeed, however, as Captain Pike is currently incapacitated, you are acting captain and, as second, I am your first officer."

"Which is a roundabout way of saying I'm your responsibility?"

"I would not go so far as to say that," Spock says, "however, _he_ does seem to think so."

"Must be strange," Jane observes, her eyes fixed on the chair. "If I had to see the other Kirk -- I'd be pretty fucked up over it."

"You are not me," Spock states. "Neither is he. It is highly unlikely that the man he is bears any resemblance to the man I will become."

"Of course not," Jane says. "He _likes_ me." She stares at the chair. "How much do you know?"

"Lieutenant Commander Kitara provided a detailed report of their escape from the Du'Moch," Spock says. "Perhaps, if you were to sit down, we might review it."

Jane snaps back to him. "Beg pardon, Commander?"

Spock takes one single step closer, his voice lowering, "You appear to be experiencing an emotional reaction at the thought of taking the command chair. It is not illogical," _dammit_, she hates that word, "however, it is."

"I -- " Jane presses her lips together, frowning, before shaking her head once. "Mr. Spock, I can honestly say that while there are times I truly don't understand you, this is the first time that you've never made _sense_. What the hell was that?"

"The chair is yours," Spock says. "I do not believe that Captain Pike will begrudge that. It is illogical to blame yourself for something regulations dictates." His gaze softens and, for a fleeting moment, she sees the Ambassador in his eyes. "It is, however, fully logical that you do. It is in perfect keeping with your sense of duty and responsibility for your comrades. For that reason, I suggest you ignore your emotions and do what is best for them. They require a captain and I can think of none better to fill the role."

Jane looks around them then, at the watchful eyes of the crew, and smiles. "Was that a vote of confidence, Commander?"

"Yes," Spock says, crisp and confident. "I believe that it might also be considered an apology."

"For?"

"Mischaracterization."

She waits for an explanation, but none is forthcoming. Spock stands there looking at her with an expression which says she has all the explanation she needs.

Jane doesn't really disagree with that assessment. "All right," she says, forcing herself forward. She slides into the chair with the brisk reminder that it really isn't the first time she's sat in it.

Bad idea, that reminder, as she blushes instantly.

Fuck.

Even worse choice. She blushes harder. "Double fucking hell," she mutters, sotto voce, as Spock comes to stand beside her again.

"Are you quite well, Captain?" he asks, the very appearance of polite concern. "You seem flushed."

Jane looks sideways at him. "I'm -- " She shakes her head again. "Just give me the damn report, Spock, and put that eyebrow down before you hurt somebody." She takes the PADD from him. "You said _Lieutenant Commander_ Kitara. I take it that our Klingon friend is -- "

"A Starfleet officer," Spock affirms. "Also, she is not entirely Klingon. Her mother, she informs me, is Irish."

Jane grins. "Did you bond?"

"I do not believe that would be appropriate," Spock replies. If his gaze flicks over her shoulder in Uhura's direction, well, neither of them acknowledge it. "However, we did enjoy a fruitful discussion of our rather unique experiences among humans. I have included recommendations on the matter of her status as well."

"I have a feeling your recommendations and my opinions are going to be shockingly complimentary," Jane observes. "Particularly since she was most specific on the matter of their shield harmonics."

"Indeed," Spock nods. "It is highly unlikely that Valeris will not have anticipated us beaming through them and acted accordingly to change them."

"But there's only so many changes she can make," Jane says. "This should be enough to let us do some serious damage." She turns the chair to face Uhura. "Lieutenant, will you have security bring our Klingon guest to the bridge? I find myself in need of a good tactical officer."

If she shocks Uhura with her request, the lieutenant doesn't let on. Instead, she nods crisply and turns to her station.

Jane glances at Spock. "Any problems with that, Commander?"

"Only surface concerns," Spock says. "She is accustomed to equipment more advanced than we currently have at our disposal. While it is likely she has a basic familiarity with our systems, she may need time to gain experience on them."

"She's a Klingon, Mr. Spock," Jane smiles. "Just show her how to point and shoot. She'll do the rest. When you're done that, we have some plans that need making." She holds up the PADD. "I think you know what those are."

Spock's expression might be a grimace, if he weren't _Spock_ and Vulcan and too damn much of both to give in to something so silly. "If I assume correctly then they are most ill-advised." He hesitates for the briefest of moments before saying, "As that is highly in character for you, my assumption must be correct."

Jane smiles, relieved to hear that oh-so-familiar 'fuck you' back in his voice. "Good. Get on that."

They might actually not die after all.

-

She's not sure precisely when Bones makes his appearance, but when she turns to speak to Uhura, there he is. He's had time to clean up, change uniforms, but the strain around his eyes says sleep did not make it onto the schedule.

Jane waves him closer. "You should be asleep, Doctor," she says. "You won't have the chance much longer. We'll be making contact with the Du'Moch any time now." She glances at Kitara and Spock, heads bent together over the tactical console, and shakes her head. "That's going to take some getting used to."

The random aside doesn't have its intended effect. Bones glances at them then turns back to her without so much as a comment. "I thought they were invisible?"

"Cloaked," Jane nods. "They are."

"Then how the hell do you presume to --- son of a _bitch_, Jane, you're going to bait that woman aren't you?" He scowls. "Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

"Ideally, no," Jane shrugs. "However, calling her bluff is about the only way to get Valeris out into the open. She's headed for _Earth_, Bones. She is headed for _my son_."

"We have the Ambassador," Bones stammers out. "She must know that we know what she's planning. It's not lo--"

"This woman stole a Klingon ship and traveled backward in time with the intent of committing mass murder, Bones," Jane snorts. "I don't think logic really enters into the picture here." She grips the arms of her chair tightly, fighting to hold onto her composure. Too many eyes are on her. She can't fucking lose it now. "_Bones_." Rubbing the bridge of her nose, she sighs. "Status on Pike?"

"Holding his own." Bones moves closer to the chair, resting a hand on the arm, next to hers. "And how is the captain?"

Jane rolls her neck. It's a tempting to make a pithy comment, but she doesn't. Aside from the obvious, it's _Bones_. "Tired, stressed, a dozen other things I can't admit to in front of the crew. I hate waiting, Bones, but I don't have a choice. Until we get the all clear from Engineering -- "

"We're sitting ducks."

"Well, we're not _that_," Jane says, recognizing the tease for what it is. "We've still got some tricks up our sleeves." She turns around, looking at Spock. "Speaking of, Commander, I hate to put a rush on things but -- " there's only so much a woman can do before she starts to lose it. "I'm putting a rush on things."

Spock shares a brief comment with Kitara before nodding. "With your leave, Captain, I shall endeavor to assist Commander Barry and her team."

"Go," Jane nods. "I'll call you to the bridge when things get hairy." Which, hopefully, they will in short order. "I imagine that'll happen just as soon as I put the call out."

"Do not hesitate to to do," Spock replies. "We will be ready."

Jane looks at Bones. "Sickbay?"

"Would appreciate it if you avoided sending us any casualties," he shrugs, "but if you feel the need, we've got room. Some." His fingers brush hers, cautious and subtle, offering the simple support of his presence. "Command?"

"Ready," Jane says, adding in a softer voice, "as I'll ever be."

His fingers touch hers again, lingering a little longer this time. "Which is more than enough if you're looking for my opinion."

"I'm not," Jane answers, tempering her words with a smile and, "but it is appreciated, Doctor. Much." She looks back at Uhura. "Lieutenant, I know it's a ridiculous question to ask, but do you have the frequency the Du'Moch was broadcasting on?"

"Queued up and ready to go, Captain," she says. "At least, whenever you are."

Jane leaves her chair. Somehow, when she does this, she doesn't think she should be sitting there. "All right then, boost it as much as you can and let's do this." Going to Uhura's station, she folds her arms and leans against the console. "Kitara, I think we'll need you for this. I doubt Ms. Valeris is going to believe me."

Kitara grins, fierce and amused all at the same time. "I will be ready."

"Good, then, Lieutenant -- " Jane waves a hand. "You know the drill."

Uhura actually grins. "Hailing frequencies open, _Captain_."

Looking for Bones, Jane starts off, "Kirk to Valeris. Lieutenant, I'd like a word with you." Not expecting an answer, she continues, "I'm well aware of your intentions and the extent of your plans. The Ambassador and his escort were both _very_ verbose on the matter. Which, if I understand the relevant theories correctly, means any and all results you had intended are now null and void. In short, the jig is up. I know who killed my father. I know who killed my brother. I know who's responsible for the attack on the Potemkin and the casualties on both that ship and the Deneva colony. Just as soon as my report reaches Starfleet Command, they will also know. I imagine the Vulcan government is going to have a few questions for your counterpart." She smirks, hoping it comes across in her voice as she adds, "Maybe you two can be cellmates. Puts whole new meaning to the term 'self-discovery' doesn't it?"

Jane purses her lips, tapping one booted toe against the deck. "I'm sure, Lieutenant, that you're asking yourself a few questions right now. The truth is, I don't really care. I'm guessing you didn't know that the Ambassador was even gone. Your Klingon friends probably didn't want to bother you with that information. It's not their fault, I wouldn't tell you either, crazy woman that you are. It doesn't matter how they escaped, just that they did, and that we've known all along precisely what your game is."

She laughs. "I imagine you'd probably like to talk to me about this. God knows I'd like to have a word or two with you myself." Most of them involving four letters and no shortage of physical actions. As they say on my world, whenever you're ready, you know where to find me. Oh, and in case you really don't believe me about your former hostages -- Commander?"

Kitara's response is a short spat of Klingon which, really, requires absolutely no translation. Fuck off sounds the same in every language in the galaxy.

"That goes double for me," Jane says and nods at Uhura. When the channel is closed, she grins. "Something to say, Lieutenant?"

"If you weren't the acting captain," Uhura smiles, "I might be inclined to say that it doesn't surprise me that you know how to curse in at least one Klingon dialect."

"I don't," Jane smiles. "But you can bet I'm planning to learn."

-

They don't have to wait long for Valeris's response.

"Bridge to Captain Kirk."

"Ahh," Jane looks at Cait. "I think our friends have arrived."

Caitlin scrunches her nose. "You're going to break every damn thing I just fixed, aren't you?"

Jane tries for innocent, but it's her, there's no chance in hell she'll actually pull it off. "I promise I won't _try_ to, but there is a good chance that it will happen, yes." She holds up her hands. "Promise not to fuck with my shower settings if I do?"

One learns quickly not to mess with engineers, for sonic showers are tricky and their settings easily 'broken'.

With a grin, Caitlin wipes greasy hands on a rag. "I wish I could, Captain, but -- " she brandishes the rag. "You know that's not possible."

"I am doomed," Jane sighs. She turns away to the nearest wall console. "Kirk here."

"You'll want to see this, Captain," Uhura answers. "They're here."

Jane looks at the tiny screen, watching as the Du'Moch decloaks just off the port bow.

"Fuck, that's close," Jane murmurs. "All right, Lieutenant. Stand by." Thumbing the channel closed, she looks at Bones. "I'm guessing you should probably get to Sickbay. She's not going to be in a good mood."

Bones snorts. "With the way you baited her, can't imagine why." He starts to turn, stopping when something occurs to him. "Why do I get the feeling that as soon as my back is turned, you're going to do something damn stupid?"

Jane smiles cheerfully. "Because it's _me_ and you're not an idiot? Look at it this way, Bones, if I don't do something damn stupid, she's going to open fire and then where will we be?"

He grins. "Jockeying for elbow room in hell, most likely."

She nods. "Well, there you go."

He starts for the turbolift, clearly expecting her to follow. Jane, however, has other plans. She's through the door and into the transporter room before Bones has a chance to question her. "They raise shields yet?"

"No," Spock, the younger, replies. He hands her a phaser. "I believe we are expected."

"You are," the Ambassador says. He's standing at the transporter controls. "I shall endeavor to give you some element of surprise."

"Just don't put us in a room full of Klingons," Jane says. "I'd hate to die before I even get a chance at trying to kill myself." She steps up on the pad and looks at the Ambassador. "So, tell me, this kind of thing happen to us often?"

"Yes."

Jane looks at Spock. _Her_ Spock. A turn of phrase she never ever expected to use. "This does not bode well."

"On the contrary," the Ambassador interjects. "It is most fortuitous."

"I disagree."

One Spock looks at the other. Both raise one eyebrow. Jane closes her eyes and groans. "_Spock_." Which one she's addressing, she can't be sure. She's not sure that she cares. "Energize, Ambassador. Save the arguing for later."

"We -- "

She glares. "_Energize_."

He does.

-

The Klingon ship stinks. At her side, Spock's nose wrinkles. "Yeah," Jane mutters. "I hear you." She listens as a crisp voice, Valeris, barks orders over the intraship. "Still can't get used to this. A _Vulcan_."

"We are not uniform in our behavior, Captain," Spock observes. "Any more than your species is."

"Ah, but mine are supposed to act like this," Jane whispers, pressing back against the wall. Two Klingons stomp by, a large, ugly and _mean_ looking animal dragged along by a lease.

Probably their kitten.

"Bet they named it Fluffy," Jane says.

"It is a Targ," Spock corrects, surprising her by _not_ lecturing her about her sense of humor's damn inappropriate timing. He's totally thinking about it though, the fucker, she _knows_ he is. "I do not believe a Klingon would bestow such a frivolous name upon a creature."

"Don't be so sure," Jane shoots back. "Never underestimate the lunacy of a pet owner. I could tell you stories about a terrier named Killer that'd turn your hair white."

"I fail to see how a dog of such stature would induce stress sufficient to elicit such a response." Oh yeah, he's messing with her. If she weren't so tickled by the idea that this Spock is, indeed, capable of fucking with her head for _fun_, Jane thinks she might be insulted.

Mostly, though, she's touched that he's humoring her.

"You've never met him," Jane says. It's probably telling that a brief, if strange, exchange of banter while one sneeze away from total annihilation (really, she doubts the Klingons would offer her a hanky) does more for her mood than the best scotch ever could. What it's saying, however, she decides not to pay much attention to.

She's fucked up. In other news, Earth's sun rises in the east, space is cold, and Bones is going to kill her if she lives through this. She inches along the corridor, hating the clatter of metal beneath her boots. Fucking Klingons and their fucking straight-on approach. A little subterfuge was never a bad thing. Honestly.

They make it two steps before someone shouts. Spock moves before Jane does, Vulcan strength sending the first Klingon stumbling over his own boots.

"You will go now, Captain," Spock orders, struggling with the second. "I will join you shortly."

Jane doesn't hesitate. She bolts.  
-

 

She isn't worrying about Spock. She isn't. If there's one thing she's learned in all this, not that she didn't know it before, it's that there are few officers better. Spock would know the odds better than she, but Jane's pretty sure the odds of survival are definitely in his favor.

Hers aren't quite so good. Jane's no Vulcan, but her handle on logic is fair. If Valeris can't sway her opinion, removing her from the playing field entirely was the next quite logical step.

"Hello Captain."

There's no pretending now. Valeris doesn't hide her identity as she steps into the corridor. She's tall, raven-haired, and stunningly beautiful. The very image of the perfect Vulcan.

If you ignored the homicidal maniac part.

Jane stops in her track, gripping her phaser tightly. "Lieutenant I believe." It's not a question. She remembers the meld with Spock vividly. Remembers that moment on the bridge, watching Spock ripping the truth from her mind.

"A lieutenant no longer," Valeris replies. "Starfleet renounced all ties to me the moment I was taken into custody."

"Really?" Jane asks, feigning astonishment. "Wow, I can't imagine why." She thinks of her father's ship in flames, pieces drifting across the sky over Starbase 11, a viciously beautiful display of death. "Wait, no, yes I can." She walks forward. "Did you _really_ think it would have worked?"

"The odds were unclear on the matter," Valeris says, "but yes, I believed that it would." She makes a little gesture, almost a shrug, before adding, "We had already failed. Interference in the past seemed the only option left open to us." She sighs. "It is unfortunate that I was forced to undertake the matter alone, but Admiral Cartwright -- "

Right. Human lifespans. Nothing compared to Vulcans.

"Pity," Jane says. "Handing both your heads to Starfleet would have felt so fucking good." She raises the phaser. "Yours will have to do." Rage creeps into her voice for the first time. "I've been imagining this for a while; what I'd do when I got my hands on you." Her laugh is raw, angry, and Valeris flinches. "I wanted to kill you. I _still_ want to kill you."

She thinks of Bones and his steady faith, her son's innocent face, Aurelan's serenity in the face of her own agony and that of the survivors around her...Sam and her father's smiles.

"I can't do that to them." She tightens her grip on her phaser, making sure it's set to stun. "_They_ deserve better."

Valeris nods. "Acceptable. You have not changed nearly so much as one would imagine, Captain."

"Imagine my relief," Jane says with some hesitance. Looking at Valeris, it's difficult to imagine that she, a _Vulcan_, is guilty of thousands of deaths. If not for the memories from the meld, she's not sure that she could believe it. "Not for your lack of trying." She presses her lips together, taking a deep breath. "Why attack my mother? Why kill Sam? Why plan to kill my son?"

Circling around Valeris, she continues, "The irony of it is, Lieutenant, if you'd just left well enough alone, your plan might have worked. I _hated_ those bastards for what they did to my father. I _hated_ them."

"You also hated them for the death of your son," Valeris replies, crisp and calm. "A Klingon commander murdered David without cause, without a chance to fight, it was a meaningless death. You hated them for it."

_They are dying, Jane._

_Then_ let_ them die._

"Your friendship with Ambassador Spock overcame your hate. Through your affection for him, you found it within yourself to look past your hate to do your duty. You did it because he asked you to. Therefore it was logical that we increase your hate to a level which meant nothing would overcome it."

Valeris turns, watching Jane as she moves. "Killing them was the only logical option."

"No," Jane says, seeing Valeris through clearer eyes. "It was not. If it was my friendship with Spock that let me overcome my hate then why not, logically, prevent that friendship?" She stops, grinning. "You couldn't do that, could you? You couldn't bring yourself to hurt someone you loved. Not very logical, Lieutenant. Not very logical at all. If you had done that, you just might have won, disappeared into history and savored your victory."

That gets her. Valeris frowns, uncertain, and her posture relaxes slightly. It's not much, but it should be enough.

Jane raises the phaser and fires. It's not.

Seeing the movement, Valeris ducks, going into a roll and coming up before Jane. She swings an arm, knocking the phaser from Jane's hand, grabbing her by the throat with the other. "Perhaps," Valeris says, quietly. "This option, however, I believe is also a logical option. If there is no Captain Kirk for the Federation to rally behind -- " she raises one brow. "What is the expression? Sheep without a shepherd?"

Her grip on Jane's neck is a vice, blotches of red clouding Jane's vision as she chokes and gasps, kicking for purchase.

"Perhaps I should have simply done that in the beginning." Valeris murmurs. "Would you wish me to attempt that instead, Captain? Kill you as a child -- allowing your brother and father to live?" She tips her head, cool eyes watching Jane fight for consciousness. "Prevent your son's birth? Or would you wish me to kill you later? While on the Farragut perhaps. No one would have noticed one more corpse in the midst of so many. It is still possible, you know. All that is required are the computations for the trip back and it can be done."

Jane claws at her arms, her hands sluggish in their response, knowing it will be pointless. "Fu--" she can't even gasp the words out. Her eyes start to droop.

Bones is going to _kill her_. He's going to bring her back and then he's going to kill her.

She'd laugh if she could.

Everything goes black until pain lances through her head. Jane groans, rolling onto her side, reaching for the back of her neck. She hears the thump-rattle of booted feet against the deck. It hurts, at first, to open her eyes, but when she does, she's greeted to the sight of Kitara's furious face.

She spits something furious in Klingon, throwing Valeris across the room. For her part, Valeris responds in kind. Her expression is ugly, enraged, and the words that spill out of her are Vulcan and still ugly.

Jane closes her eyes, resting her head against the cool deck. So much for that vaunted control. There's nothing but pure, naked hate in Valeris' voice. Nothing but. The sight of it it, the memory burned into her mind, is a condemnation.

_"They are dying, Jane."_

_"Then_ let_ them die!"_

Those words won't leave her alone. Of all the things in the meld, this is the one she can't forget. Never will. That moment is burned into her mind, etched with acid on her consciousness. A moment that, now, will never happen, but could have. She tries to swallow, her throat protesting the action, realizing with shame that, for a time, Valeris won.

She hated them. Part of her hates them still. Enough that, if that moment did happen, she's not sure what answer she'd give.

Jane shakes her head and looks past the ghosts to see the results of the fight. Kitara stands victorious with Valeris held tight in the grip of one hand, slowly choking. "Don't," she says, voice cracking on the word. "Kitara -- "

"She's not worth it, Kitara."

Kitara's back stayed to her. Silent. Fury seeped into every line of her body.

Jane presses palms flat to the deck, grating curiously warm against her fingers, and pushes herself up. "Commander, I am _ordering you_ to let her go." She coughs, her throat protesting every word mightily. "I won't have murderers serving on my ship."

Her hands buckle and she drops to the deck again. She loses sight of Kitara for a moment, spots crowding the edges of her vision until everything's swimming. "_Commander_."

The title comes out as a rasp, weak and thin, and she starts to fade in and out, effort draining her more than she'd like to admit.

Dimly, Jane hears a thump.

"_Fuck_."

She passes out as Kitara comes into view, face framed perfectly by the dark tunnel that's become her vision. She means to demand a report, she tries, but the tunnel closes before she gets the chance.

-

"Goddamn fucking _moron_."

Fingers on her neck, pressing into her pulse, the familiar whir of a tricorder. Jane knows she should be disturbed by the fact that it's _soothing_, but she's too busy being soothed to care.

"That you, honey?" Jane rasps. She opens heavy-lidded eyes to the angry - no, fucking _pissed_ \- face of one Leonard H. McCoy. He's crouched over her, a security team behind him, with Spock at his side. "I missed all the fun, didn't I?"

"What you missed," Bones snaps, "was that pointy-eared bastard saving your fucking life. What in the hell did you think you were doing, Jane?"

Jane thinks of a dozen and one possible responses. All of them would probably get her hypo'd for her trouble. She settles for lying on the cold metal deck and saying, "My job?"

Bones scowls. "Should just leave you here."

"But you won't," Jane says, reaching for her own throat. "You'd miss me." His eyes soften for a moment and she gets a good look at the fear he's hiding. Closing her own eyes to shut it out, she wishes mightily her crew would leave. "_Bones_." She wants to say more, but not in front of everyone. That will just have to wait for the privacy of her quarters when she doesn't have a knot in her stomach the size of the Enterprise.

"Mr. Spock -- "

"Valeris is alive," Spock replies. His expression, however, suggests that her particular state is due entirely to chance and not intent. "Commander Kitara has removed her to the Enterprise."

"Damn," she sighs. Her voice still sounds raspy and Bones bats her fingers away from her throat. "You said -- " she frowns. "I thought Kitara -- "

"Saved your ass? Yeah, she did," Bones says before Spock can. "Ever see a firefight ended by a pissed off Klingon?" He grins smugly. "It's a thing of beauty."

The grin does it. It snaps into place _which_ pointy-eared bastard he meant and she scowls. "You _didn't_!" Jane sits up in a rush, regretting it as her head starts to swim. "Oh fuck," she grabs for his shoulder, holding herself up. "You _knew_."

"That you were about to do something damn stupid like, oh, I dunno, beam over to a ship full of Klingons and try and beat a _Vulcan_ in hand-to-hand?" Bones rolls his eyes. "Of course not, because, really, Captain, you'd _never_ do anything like that, now would you?"

She blushes. "It seemed like a good idea at the time?"

"Yeah, well, so did getting Kitara." Bones helps her to her feet, slow and easy. "You play dirty, Jane, and so do I." He looks at Spock. "The Ambassador informs me that it's not the first time I've done this."

Spock raises his eyebrows. "While he and I share certain similarities, Doctor, I assure you that I have no idea to what you are referring."

Jane highly doubts that, but she's not going to argue. She looks around her. "Someone is going to need to figure out what to do with this ship." And the crew. There's no way they can allow Klingons from the future to take their advanced knowledge, and their very shiny advanced ship, back to the Empire for their scientists to reverse engineer.

They can blow the ship, but the Klingons --

"This is a fucking mess," Jane sighs. "How the hell am I going to fit this into a report?"

"Ask the Ambassador," Bones says, his arm tight around her waist. "I get the feeling he's had a lot of practice."

-

"It feels like there should be something else."

Released to the privacy of her own quarters, Jane sits cross-legged on her bed and looks at the Vulcan standing in her doorway.

"Valeris has been stopped, her ship impounded, David is safe, her goal is unachieved." Ambassador Spock tips his head, eyes glinting with amusement. "Am I to understand this is not a satisfactory result?"

Jane laughs, pressing hands to her eyes. "Pretty much. I wanted to beat the hell out of her, Spock." She swallows hard, remembering the feeling of Valeris's hand on her neck, strangling her so easily. "I wanted her to -- " she breaks off. "Fuck, I don't know." She lets her hands fall, her head go back, and she gusts a sigh. "I just need _something_."

"Have you spoken with her?" Spock asks.

"On the ship," Jane nods. "I don't think there's anything further I want to hear from her." She pulls her legs up to her chest, resting her chin on one of her knees as she looks at him. "I want to fix this. I want to put things right again. Back to the way they were. Sam -- " She presses her lips together, fighting back the waves of tears. "Sam's dead."

"It is no comfort, but that was the case in the original timeline as well," Spock says. "Sam and Aurelan both died." He moves closer and there's none of the expected awkwardness. With her, it seems, this Spock has grown quite comfortable in discussing emotional reactions. Jane knows that's a gift, but it's one she doesn't quite know how to handle. "Perhaps the knowledge that here, in this life, Aurelan will continue on may be of some reassurance?"

"No, yes, I -- " Jane swears quietly and wipes at the few tears slipping free. "Thousands of people are dead, Spock, and they're dead because of _me_. I don't care what people say, Spock, this is my responsibility. Her responsibility. Ours." She laughs, the tears flowing free no matter what she does. "Fuck, this is confusing. I don't -- " she shakes her head. "God." She sits there, staring at nothing, seeing everything. "I'm the captain, at least for now I am, I'm supposed to know how to do this." She drags her gaze back to him. "Would it surprise you to know I have absolutely no clue."

"Jane. Old friend."

Spock sits on the edge of her bed, looking at her. She forces herself not turn away from him. He almost smiles, his hand moving as though to touch her, before retreating back again. "There is much of that future which you do not know and may never face. She is not you and you are not her. There are echoes of you in each other, perhaps there always has been, it is only now that I am aware of it and you." He breathes deep. "It has been a constant of our lives that things which humans would deem miraculous consistently occur. We have cheated death, time, and a thousand other foes and each time we have done so, you have been at my side, the catalyst for everything which flows around us. Whether that remains the same in this timeline or not I cannot say, nor may I make any claims to that you will share such a friendship with your Spock or not."

Jane thinks of Bones. "I didn't have him there, did I?"

"Doctor McCoy has been, and always shall be, a true and deep friend to us both. I have learned over the decades to value his friendship as much as I do yours. I do not believe, however, that anything romantic occurred between you." Spock considers it with some depth. "I cannot speak for certainty on the matter. It was not one in which I would have had any say."

Which, Jane's sure, is definitely the Vulcan way of saying 'it was none of my business' without actually having to be so...crass.

She nods. "What are you going to do here? You can't go back -- "

"I cannot," Spock says. "It is likely that, in Starfleet's attempt to retrieve us, Commander Kitara and I are ghosts of a sort. Copies of the originals created by the secondary transporter beam they used to effect a rescue."

"They might not even know you're gone."

Spock nods. "In effect, we are not."

Ghosts. Ghosts without even anyone to grieve their loss.

"Stay." Jane looks at him. "We can find a place for you here. I -- " she laughs. "I don't even know what's going to happen."

"I will find a place," Spock assures. "As for what will happen, no one may know that. I can, however, make an educated guess and, should it come to pass, might I ask that you offer Kitara a berth? While I may easily make my way within the Federation, circumstances for her will not be quite so simple."

Jane nods. "I'll do what I can."

There's no doubting, no question, that when Spock looks at her, he's laughing. It's beneath the surface, hinted at in his eyes, but he is definitely, absolutely, _laughing at her_.

"What?" she asks, making a face. "What's that look about?"

"You underestimate yourself," Spock says.

"I'm not her, Spock. I can't pull off the impossible."

Spock raises one brow and, for an instant, Jane can see a thousand moments playing back in her mind. Spock's patented 'You're being an idiot, Jane' look. "Respectfully, Captain, I would suggest you look around you. It would seem to me that you have already done so." He rises. "I believe I will speak to Valeris." At the mention of her name, he looks weary, old. Nothing like the friend of moments before. "You have no need of closure, but I find that, perhaps, I do."

She reaches for him, fingers tangling in the fabric of his sleeve. "She shouldn't have asked that of you. Forcing -- " she can't say it. She doesn't know much about Vulcan mindmelds, but she knows it can be a deeply intimate process. Asking Spock to -- She shakes her head. "It was wrong."

"It was," Spock agrees. "My actions were a gross error." She can feel the guilt underlying his voice. "We were out of time, desperate, but the decision was mine. I bear the responsibility for my actions. You -- "

"Won't let you shoulder the blame. Maybe she never said it, but she should have, so I am." Jane squeezes one and lets his arm fall. "If it were up to me, I'd say you owe Valeris absolutely nothing, but you would say the same thing about what your Jane and I owe you."

"I do not believe it is the same thing at all," Spock says, stiff and proper.

Jane laughs. "No, you wouldn't." She gets off the bed, pulling a uniform shirt from her dresser drawer. "But, fortunately, I'm not asking you." She looks at him. "I'll walk you to Sickbay. There's someone down there I have to see."

-

When they walk into Sickbay, Bones is waiting.

"Don't shoot," she says, smiling. "I come in peace."

From the look on his face, Jane's pretty sure that Bones is giving it some serious thinking. "As I recall, Captain," he says, "I released you from Sickbay on the sole condition that you go back to your quarters and _rest_."

"And I did!" Jane points at Spock. Ambassador Spock, that is. "He was on his way here to see Valeris. I decided to -- " she smiles. "I couldn't just let him wander unescorted around the ship now could I?"

Bones shoots meaningful glares in the direction of the ambassador's ever present security escort. "Unescorted my ass."

"Hey," Jane warns in a murmur, "I thought we agreed no mentions of anatomy while on duty." She slants a grin at him to which he replies with another glare. "All we did was walk down here. Spock was watching me every step of the way and, besides, Valeris choked me. She didn't break my legs."

"Unfortunately," Bones mutters. "At least I could keep you in one place." He looks at the Ambassador. "Valeris is -- "

"I am aware of her location, Doctor," he says, quite placidly. "I await appropriate escort."

Bones nods once. "All right." He waves Christine forward. "Take him to see the Vulcan." The tone is brusque, official, but Jane hears the seething rage underneath. His feelings on the matter of Valeris are quite clear. "The restraints stay on." This is said to Spock more than Christine.

"And a security officer with a line of sight on you both." Jane waits until Spock nods before she waves them off. "Speaking of Vulcans, seen the other Spock? I should probably -- "

"He was in a while ago. Spoke to Pike." Bones realizes his mistake the second he speaks. His 'oh god, here she goes' expression would be laughable if Jane weren't, well, fucking pissed off.

"Pike's _awake_? Why didn't you -- Damn it, Bones, you were supposed to call me!"

"You damn near died yesterday, Jane," Bones snaps back. "Like it or not, that means you have to rest! When you were up to it, I would have told you."

"For the record, _Doctor_, I may just be the acting captain, but I am still the captain. On matters of ship's business, you will tell me when there is something that I need to know. The status of the actual captain? One of those concerns." Jane takes a step closer, her voice a low and furious mutter. "Let's be clear, Bones, whatever we do off-duty won't stop me from putting you on report when I think it's necessary."

Completely unintimidated, he glares back. "Whatever we do off-duty, _Captain_, isn't going to stop me from doing what I think is best for my patients. You included!"

Jane starts to snap at him, quite ready to rip his head off, when she thinks better of it. Considering his words, she nods once. "Fine, but that's not going to stop me from yelling at you either."

With something that might be grudging approval, Bones turns around. "S'fine by me, I just won't listen." He leads her in a different direction than the last time she'd visited Pike.

Jane thinks about asking, but Bones looks back. Almost defensive. "We needed a room for Valeris and the captain refused to stay in there."

"I would too," Jane says. Shut off from everyone else, unable to keep a finger on the ship's pulse, it would drive her out of her mind. "How is he?"

"Clear-minded, conscious, still a long way away from getting back to the bridge. As soon as we get back to Deneva and pick up Boyce, we'll get started on his physio plans. Until then, I'm just keeping him comfortable." At the door, Bones stops and points at her. "You don't stay long."

"I just want to see him," Jane replies. "After everything, we need to talk."

-

The son of a bitch is laughing when she steps into the room.

"Something amuse you, sir?"

"More than I should admit," Pike nods. "You realize you'll be the talk of the ship for that little argument?"

Jane shrugs. "Might as well get out of the way now. We'll be old news in a week." She sits on the bed, folding one leg beneath her. "Dr. McCoy tells me you'll be making a full recovery."

"In time," he nods. "Yes."

"Sir -- "

"You did good, Kirk." His interruption is swift and firm. "The situation is neutralized. Valeris is in the brig, the Klingon ship is under our control. Short of it not happening at all, that's best possible outcome." His expression sobers. "You have my condolences."

Jane says nothing. "The Klingon ship is a problem. The crew -- "

"Presents a nightmare scenario," Pike nods. "I've been considering that myself." His smile is faint. "I've been giving a lot of things some thought. Like the matter of my replacement. I've already recommended you to Starfleet."

"With respect, sir," Jane says, "are you _insane_? I've been XO for five minutes. I don't have the experience for a captaincy, I -- "

"Are a born commander. I know that's not a line of thinking Starfleet encourages, but the fact still remains, Jane, that you have an aptitude for this that is unparalleled. I look at you and I see the kind of captain that comes along once in a generation." Pike's eyes hint at amusement. "Don't try arguing with me, Commander. The ambassador beat you to seeing me."

Jane groans. "That -- what did he tell you?"

"Enough." If she had any doubt before, Jane's sure now. He's _laughing at her_. The way people keep doing that, she's going to develop a complex. "This isn't a matter of destiny, Commander. The universe is not anointing you captain. This is simple. If I can't be the captain of this ship, I want the next best choice and that, in my mind, is you."

"I'd argue, sir, but I'm reasonably sure you'd kick my ass."

"In a hot second," Pike says, absolutely deadpan.

"Jane."

They both look back at McCoy.

"Ah, time to go." Jane slides off the bed. "We'll finish this later, sir?"

"Nothing to finish," he says. "As far as I'm concerned the decision's made. Get your ass out of here and do your damn job."

As if on cue, a too-familiar klaxon fills the air. Red Alert.

"You planned that."

"Sorry," Pike grins, "I'm not that good."

Already at the door, Jane looks back. Her grin is huge when she says, "The hell you aren't."

fin


End file.
